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UDVES 
BOSARY 



(!Z* Qar/ancCof1^e.rse.s 
yrom t/)Q Q air den 



X 



MadisorHawey 



The Reilly e Bmtton Co. 

Chicago 



cxA5^ 










Copyright, 191 2 

by 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 




I 



The publishers extend a grateful acknowledgment to 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company of Indianapolis for special 
permission to use in this yoRune the following poems by 
James Whitcomb Riley: Hzr\ Beautiful Eyes, He and I, 
and Her Face and Brow, from "Love Lyrics," copyright 
1898; A Song, from "Afterwhiles," copyright 1887; and 
Dear Hands, from "Pipes o' Pan at Zelvcsbury," copyright 
1888. They thank the Houghton Mifflin Company for 
permission to use Thomas Bailey Aldrich's poem, Forever 
ai^d a Dav, and Mitchell Kennerley for the use of A Young 
Man's Song from the "The Green Helmet," by W. B. Yeats ; 
and add a general acknowledgment to many other sources, 
not always possible to identify, from which this collection 
has been compiled. 



£CI.A31G702 

%0 I 




¥ 




OVE — roses — the magic month of 
June — the glamour of the soft white 
moonlight under the whispering 
trees, "with the beating of their own 
hearts the only sound they hear"; 
when the very forest is enchanted 
— when romance is all there is in 
the world — that is the spirit of this book of love lyrics. 

If you, kind sir, have long forgotten those days; if a cynic's 
smile is on your lips as you read this page — go no farther in the 
book — it is not for you. "Love's Rosary" is a shining necklace 
of happy hours, or a garden of drifting rose petals, for those other 
thousands — those uncounted millions, even — who ask nothing 
better than to find among the throbbing measures of the greatest 
poets the sympathetic imagery of their own happy state. 

To such as these — "to many a rose-lipped maiden, to many a 
lightfooted lad"— is the real dedication of "Love's Rosary." 

May they discover in its rose-bordered pages the blithe spirit 
of gay chivalry, or the tender thought of the absent beloved, 
that will be an inspiration to the lagging, a consolation to the 
downcast, or a hymn of victory when all's right with the world. 



OVGS 




Cp-sar^ 



E.E pearls that form a rosary. 
So lie in shining rows for me, 
Strung on a golden thread of Time, 
The precious hours I know with thee. 

And, filled with love and praise of thee. 

As ojie who tells his rosary, 
I count upon the beads of Time 

The henisons thou hringest me. 

Oh! may such hours still dawn J or me. 
So rich in love, so filled with thee, 

And glisten on the robe of Time, 
A never-ending rosary. 

— Oweji Innsley 



iw»)r 



lLHiC< 



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Abbott, Mary Winchester 
Rose's Message, The 

Aldrich, Thomas Bailey 
Forever and a Day . 

Anonymous 
Absence 
Annie Laurie . 
Because You Love Me 
Doubt 

Good Night . 
I Am Thy Harp 
I Cannot Help Loving Thee 
Love ..... 
Love Me Little, Love Me Long . 
Love Took Me Softly by the Hand 
Not Bhnd .... 

Arnold, Edwin 

Destiny .... 

Lovers. .... 

Baker, George Comstock 
To— 

Bayley, Thomas Haynes 

Won't You? .... 

Beddoes, Thomas Lovell 
How Many Times . 

Blunt, Wilfrid Scawen 
Love Me a Little . 
On His Fortune in Loving Her 
Religion of Love, The 
Triumph of Love, The 
Wilt Thou Take Me for Thy Slave? 

Bourdillon, Francis W. 
Gathered Roses 
Light ..... 



179 
118 

149 

58 
209 

32 

174 

51 

84 

157 

146 

28 

181 

166 

173 

201 
82 

31 

72 

55 

187 

63 

170 

154 
182 




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Browning, Elizabeth Barrett 
Love Me, Sweet 
Love Strikes One Hour 
Sonnets from the Portuguese 

Browning, Robert 

Last Ride Together, The . 

One Way of Love 

Song from "A Blot on the 'Scutcheon" 

Burns, Robert 

Banks of Doon, The 

Bonny Leshe 

Jean .... 

My Jean! 

My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing. 

O, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast 

Red, Red Rose, A . 

Wilt Thou Be My Dearie? . 

Byron, Lord 

Maid of Athens 
Man's Love 
She Walks in Beauty 
To Ellen 

Campbell, Thomas 
First Kiss, The 
Song, A . . . 

Campion, Thomas 
Love Me or Not 
My Life's Dehght 

Carew, Thomas 

Ask Me No More 
To Ceha 

Cary, Alice 

Love .... 
Young Love . 



^%SS^ 





. 85 

• 137 

23, 78, 92, 163 



37 
103 
176 

70 
121 

42 
159 

98 

193 

27 

33 

126 
149 
142 
171 

190 

117 

III 

177 

26 
125 



145 
128 



^ W^ 



Chauvenet, W. M. 

In My Beloved's Eyes 

Clarke, James Freeman 

When Shall We Meet Again? 

Coleridge, Hartley 
She Is Not Fair 

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor 
Answer to a Child's Question 
Exchange, The 
Love ..... 

Collins, Mortimer 

Conceit, A . , . . 

Cowley, Abraham 
Pain of Love, The 

Davenant, Sir William 

Lark Now Leaves His Wat'ry Nest, The. 

Daniel, Samuel 

Love Is a Sickness 

Dickens, Charles 

Song ..... 

DoBSON, Austin 

Rose ..... 
Song of the Four Seasons, A 
Wanderer, The 

Dowland, John 

Old English Love Song 

Eliot, George 

Sweethearts Always . 



39 



212 



207 



183 
189 
106 



162 



179 



120 



114 



112 



. 155 

50 

127 



79 
24 



Fitzgerald, Edward 

Ah! Love 

Book of Verses, A 

FOLLANSBEE, MiTCHELL D. 

Rose At It Again 

Ford, John 

Since First I Saw Your Face 

Ford, Thomas 

There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind 

Gilder, Richard Watson 
Sweetheart 

Granville, George 

Song .... 

Heine, Heinrich 
Love- Yearning 
Love's Grammar 
Love's Resume' 
Maiden with the Lips Like Rosebuds 
May . 
Stowaway, The 
So Pure and Fair 
Summer and Winter 
Thine Eyes 
Thou Lovest Me Not 

Henley, William Ernest 

In the Year That's Come and Gone 
Love Notes .... 

Herrick, Robert 

Gather Ye Rosebuds 

How Roses Came Red 

To Anthea .... 



204 

144 

155 
180 

131 

116 

59 



35 

57 

107 

119 

61 

89 

69 

199 

51 
156 



124 
199 

167 

178 

30 





(gnfezztr^ IL , 



Herrick, Robert — Continued 

To Dianeme . 

To Electra 

Upon a Virgin Kissing a Rose 

Writing 
Heywood, Thomas 

Song .... 

HoLDEN, John Jarvis 

I Love My Love with A Kiss 

Holmes, Edmund Gore Alexander 
By Love Must Love Be Mastered 
I May Not Love Thee 
Nature Hath Crowned Thee 

Hood, Thomas 

Ruth .... 
Serenade 

Hugo, Victor 
Winge'd Songs 

Hunt, Leigh 

Love Lesson, A 

Innsley, Owen 
Love's Rosary 

JoNSON, Ben 

Love .... 
To Ceha 

Jones, Robert 

If You Love Me Still 

KiNGSLEY, Charles 
Twin Stars 
When All the World Is Young 

Landor, Walter Savage 
Defiance 
Rubies 



169 
156 
196 
136 

83 

140 

99 
139 
205 

41 
151 

204 

189 

9 

136 
49 

186 

21 1 
197 



121 
162 




/^ \M.^ ^WS^?^ 




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i^ 



Learned, Walter 

Explanation, An 
Locker, Frederick 

She Laughed 

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth 

From Hiawatha 

Spanish Serenade 
Lovelace, Richard 

To Althea from Prison 

To Lucasta .... 
Lowell, James Russell 

Song ..... 

Telepatliy .... 

Love ..... 
Marlowe, Christopher 

Passionate Shepherd 1\) 1 lis Love, The 
Massey, Gerald 

Love in Idleness 
McCarthy, Justin Huntley 

If I Were King 
Meredith, Owen 

When Stars Are in the Quiet Skies 
Michael Angelo 

Might of One Fair Faee, The 
Moore, Thomas 

At the Mid Hour of Night . 

Dost Thou Remember? 

I Love But Thee 

Love .... 

Love Thee ? . 

Love Thee, Dearest ? 

Song .... 

Song .... 

Time I've Lost in Wooing, The 

When First We Lo\ed 



7^ 




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Morris, George Pope 
When Other Friends 

Nairne, Lady 

Land o' the Leal, The 

Norton, Caroline Sheridan 
I Do Not Love Thee 

Pailleron, Edouard 

'Twas April 



Patmore, Coventry 

Night Thoughts 

PoE, Edgar Allan 
To Helen 



Procter, Adelaide Anne 
Chain, A 
King and Slave 
Warning, A 
Woman's Answer, A . 



Raleigh, Sir Walter 
Silent Lover, The 



Ramsay, Allan 

An Thou Were My Ain Thing 



Riley, James Whitcomb 
Dear Hands . 
He and I 

Her Beautiful Eyes 
Her Face and Brow 
Song, A 

Rogers, Robert Cameron 
The Rosary 



122 

194 

29 

104 

166 
206 
138 
134 

178 

36 



129 

46 
158 
185 

34 



215 





(§22 




mm 



RossETTi, Christina 

Birthday, A . 

First Meeting, The . 

Somewhere or Other . 

Sonnet 
RossETTi, Dante Gabriel 

Love-Letter, The 

RUECKERT, FrIEDRICH 

Why Ask of Others? 
Scott, Lady John 

When Thou Art Near Me . 

Scott, Sir Walter 

Love Wakes and Weeps 
Sedgwick, Jane M. 

Hinc Illae Lacrimae . 

Kiss Within the Cup, A 

Love-Letter, The 

True Lover, The 

Sedley, Sir Charles 
Silent Love 

Sedley, Philip 

Philhs .... 

Shakespeare, William 
Hark, Hark, the Lark 
It Was a Lover and His Lass 
Marriage of True Minds, The 
O Mistress Mine 
That Thou Hast Her 
Unchangeable, The . 
Who is Sylvia? 

Shelley, Percy Bysshe 
Good Night . 
Lines to an Indian Air 
Love's Philosophy 



•^ ^Mj^ 








Shelley, Percy Bysshe — Continued 
One Word Too Often Profaned 
To — 

To Emelia Viviani 

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley 

Song 

Sidney, Sir Philip 

Ditty, A . . . . 

Spenser, Edmund 

Love is Life's End . . • 

Suckling, Sir John 

Song ..... 
Why So Pale, Fond Lover? 

Swain, Charles 

Heart for Every One, A 

I Waited Till the Twilight . 

Swinburne, Algernon Charles 

Match, A . . . . 

Sylvester, Joshua 

Love's Omnipresence. 

Taylor, Bayard 

Proposal .... 

Tennyson, Alfred 
Ask Me No More 
Day-Dream, The 
Go Not, Happy Day 
In the Spring . 
Maud . 
My Bride 

O Swallow, Swallow 
Queen Rose 
Song . 



• • 



• • 



• • 



• • 



• • 



1 08 
182 
153 

123 

191 

144 

87 
103 

184 
210 

160 

91 
165 

95 

38 

52 

186 

45 
150 

68 
115 
195 





Tennyson, Alfred — Continued 
Sonnet 
Three Words 
To Love One Maiden 

Thackeray, William Makepeace 
At the Church Gate . 

Thomson, James 

O Mellow Moonlight 

Verlaine, Paul 

The Lover's Hour 

Villon, Francois 

Snows of Yesterday, The 

Waller, Edmund 
Go, Lovely Rose 
On a Girdle . 

Weatherby, Frederic E 
Darby and Joan 

Wheedon, James 
June 



White, Henry Kirke 
To Love 



Wilkye, John 
Madrigal 

Wither, George 
Brave Lover, The 

Wordsworth, William 
Complaint, A . 
Lines .... 
Lost Love, The 
She Was a Phantom of Dehght 

Yeats, W. B. 

Young Man's Song, The 



i6i 

213 

65 



54 



202 



80 



• 131 
. 116 



60 

37 

138 

160 



75 

. 66 

• 133 

107 
64 

. 198 




'^^ 







i 





Sonnet from the Portuguese 

How do I love thee? Let me count the 
ways. 
I love thee to the depth and breadth 
and height 
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 
For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace, 
I love thee to the level of every day's 

Most quiet need, by sun and candlehght. 
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; 
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise; 

I love thee with the passion put to use 

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's 
faith; 
I love thee with a love I seem to lose 

With my lost saints ^ — I love thee with the 
breath, 
Smiles, tears, of all my hfe! — and, if God choose, 
I shall but love thee better after death. 

— Mrs. Browning 



fx 






Sweethearts Always 



Two lovers by a moss-grown spring, 
They leaned soft cheeks together there, 
Mingled the dark and sunny hair, 
And heard the wooing thrushes sing. 
O budding time! 
O love's best prime! 

Two wedded from the portal stept; 
The bells made happy caroIHngs, 
The air was soft as fanning wings. 
While petals on the pathway slept. 
O pure-eyed bride! 
O tender pride! 

Two faces o'er a cradle bent; 

Two hands above the head were locked; 
These pressed each other while they rocked, 
Those watched a life that love had sent. 
O solemn hour! 
O hidden power! 



24 



SK^<x: 





Two parents by the evening fire; 
The red light fell about their knees 
On heads that rose by slow degrees 
Like buds upon the hly spire. 
O patient life! 
O tender strife! 

The two still sat together there, 

The red light shone about their knees; 
But all the heads by slow degrees 
Had gone and left that lonely pair. 
O voyage fast! 
O vanished past! 

The red hght shone upon the floor, 

And made the space between them wide; 
They drew their chairs up side by side, 

Their pale cheeks joined, and said, "Once [j 
more ! 






Ask Me No More 

A SK me no more whei-e Jove bestows, 
/ \ When June is past, the fading rose; 
For in your beauties' Orient deep 
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. 

Ask me no more, whither do stray 
The golden atoms of the day; 
For in pure love Heaven did prepare 
Those powders to enrich your hair. 

Ask me no more, whither doth haste 
The nightingale, when May is past; 
For in your sweet dividing throat 
She winters and keeps warm her note. 

Ask me no more, where those stars hght, 
That downwards fall in dead of night; 
For in your eyes they sit, and there 
Fixed become, as in their sphere. 

Ask me no more, if East or West 
The phoenix builds her spicy nest; 
For unto you at last she flies; 
And in your fragrant bosom dies. 

26 — Carew 







<6< 






&r 




p^s^ 






A Red, Red Rose 

OH, my luve's like a red, red rose. 
That 's newly sprung in June 
Oh, my luve's liive the melodie 
That 's sweetly played in tune. 

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 

So deep in luve am I; 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

Till a' the seas gang dry. 

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 
And the rocks melt in the sun, 

I will hive thee still, my dear. 
While the sands o' life shall run. 

And fare thee weel, my only luve! 

And fare thee wcel awhile! 
And I will come again, my luve, 

Though it w^re ten thousand mile. 












/^ y 



S^KCflti^ 



M 



hove Took Me Softly by the Hand 

E/E took me softly by the hand, 
Love led me all the country o'er, 
And showed me beauty in the land, 
That I had never seen before — 

Never before — never before — 
O Love, sweet Love! 

There was a glory in the morn. 
There was a calmness in the night, 
A mildness in the south wand borne, 
That I have never felt aright, 

Never aright — never aright, 
O Love, sweet Love! 

But now it cannot pass away — 
I feel it whereso'er I go. 
And in my heart by night and day 
Its gladness moveth to and fro; 

By night and day — by night and day — 
O Love, sweet Love! 



28 



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nXX^<^05^5^k#^5^ 





WAS April; 'twas Sunday; the day was 
fair, — 

Yes! sunny and fair. 
And how happy was I ! 
You wore the white dress you loved to wear; 
And two httle flowers were hid in your hair — 
Yes! in your hair, — • 
On that day, — gone by! 

We sat on the moss: it was shady and dry, — >y. 

Yes! shady and dry; 

And we sat in the shadow\ 
We looked at the leaves, we looked at the sky, 
We looked at the brook which bubbled near by, 

Yes, bubbled near by. 

Through the quiet meadow. 





rW/\jyl^ A bird sang on the swinging vine, — 
^^^Iv.^S Yes! on the vine,— 
And then — sang not; 
I took your httle w hite hand in mine; 
'Twas April; 'twas Sunday; 'twas warm 
sunshine, — 
Yes! warm sunshine: Have you forgot? 

29 —Pailleron :^/5^nV^ 



XX 



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To Anthea 



ID me to live, and I will liwe 
Thy Protestant to be ; 

Or bid me love, and I will give 
A loving heart to thee. 




A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 

A heart as sound and free. 
As in the whole world thou canst find; 

That heart I'll give to thee. 

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay. 

To honour thy decree; 
Or bid it languish quite away, 

And't shall do so for thee. 

Bid me to weep, and I will weep. 

While I have eyes to see. 
And having none, yet I will keep 

A heart to weep for thee. 

Bid me despair, and I'll despair 

Under that cypress tree; 
Or bid me die, and I w^ill dare 

E'en death, to die for thee. 



30 




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Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 

The very eyes of me, 
And hast command of every part. 

To live and die for thee. ^Herrick 



H 



Xfe 



> 



How Many Times 

OW many times do I love thee, dear? 
Tell me how many thoughts there be 
In the atmosphere 
Of a new-fall'n year. 
Whose white and sable hours appear 
The latest flake of Eternity; 
So many times do I love thee, dear. 

How many times do I love, again? 
Tell me how many beads there are 

In a silver chain 

Of the evening rain, 
Unraveled from the tumbling main. 
And threading the eye of a yellow star; 
So many times do I love again. 

— Beddoes 



31 



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Doubt 



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WHEN a pair of red lips are upturned 
to your own, 
With no one to gossip about it, 
Do you pray for endurance to let them alone? 
Well, maybe you do — but I doubt it. 

When a sly Httle hand you're permitted to seize. 
With a velvety softness about it, 

Do you think you can drop it with never a 
squeeze? 
Well, maybe you do — but I doubt it. 

When a tapering waist is in reach of your arm, 
With a wonderful plumpness about it. 

Do you argue the point 'twixt the good and the 
the harm? 
Well, maybe you do— but I doubt it. 

And if by these tricks you should capture a 
heart, 
With a womanly softness about it, 
Will you guard it and keep it, and act the good 
part? 
Well, maybe you will — but I doubt it 
32 











Wilt Thou Be My Dearie? 

WILT thou be my dearie? 
When sorrow wrings thy gentle 
heart, 

wilt thou let me cheer thee? 
By the treasure of my soul, 
And that's the love I bear thee! 

1 swear and vow that only thou 
Shalt ever be my dearie — 
Only thou, I swear and vow, 
Shalt ever be my dearie. 

Lassie, say thou lo'es me; 
Or if thou wilt na be my ain, 
Say na thou'lt refuse me; 
If it winna, canna be. 
Thou for thine may choose me; 
Let me, lassie, quickly die, 
^ Trusting that thou lo'es me^ 
Lassie, let me quickly die, 
Trusting that thou lo'es me. 

^Burns 



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A Song 





THERE is ever a song somewhere, my 
dear; 
There is ever a something sings alway: 
There's the song of the lark when the skies are 
clear, 
And the song of the thrush when the skies are 
gray. 

The sunshine showers across the grain. 

And the bhiebird trills in the orchard tree; 

And in and out, when the eaves drip rain, 
The swallows are twittering ceaselessly. 

There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. 

Be the skies above or dark or fair, 
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear — • 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear- 
There is ever a song somewhere! 

There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. 

In the midnight black, or the mid-day blue: 
The robin pipes when the sun is here. 

And the cricket chirrups the whole night 
through. 

34 



V 




k': 






The buds may blow, and the fruit may grow, 
And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sere; 

But whether the sun, or the rain, or the snow, 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. 

There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. 

Be the skies above or dark or fair. 
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear — 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear — 






There is ever a song somewhere 



Love-Yearning 



— Riley 



E^ thy soft cheek against my cheek. 
Our tears in one stream outgushing! 
And to my heart press close thy heart 
Their ilamcs in one flame outrushing! 

And into that mighty llame when Hows 

The tide of our tear-drops burning, 
And when in my arms I have ch\sped thee 
close — 
I'll die of pure love-yearning! 

— Heine 
35 










i? 

^ 

A 



An Thou Were My A in Thing 

K 






N thou were my ain thing, 

I would love thee, I would love thee; 
An thou were my ain thing. 
How dearly I would love thee. 

Sae lang's I had use of light 
I'd on thy beauties feast my sight, 
Sae lang's I had the use of hght 
I'd tell how much I loved thee. 

How fair and ruddy is my Jean, 
She moves a goddess o'er the green. 
Were I a king thou should be queen — 
None but myself aboon thee. 

Time's on the wing, and will not stay, 
In shining youth let's make our hay — 
Since love admits of no delay, 
O let na scorn undo thee. 

While love does at his altar stand, 
Hae, here's my heart, gie me thy hand. 
And with ilk smile thou shalt command 
The will of him who loves thee. 

36 — Ramsay 






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* 



The Last Ride Together 

Y mistress bent that brow of hers; 
Those deep dark eyes where pride 
demurs 
When pity would be softening through, 
Fixed me a breathing-while or two 

With life or death in the balance; right! 
The blood replenished me again; 
My last thought was at least not vain: 
I and my mistress, side by side 
Shall be together, breathe and ride. 
So, one day more am I deified. 

Who knows but the world may end to-night? 

— Browning 



A 



June 

STRAYING zephyr and a waveless sea, 
A skylark singing, and a honeybee 
Home-going happily. 
A lover wooing and a radiant moon, 
A maiden listening, and the world in tune 
To love: Ah, wondrous June! 

37 — Wheedon 




^>^^^ 



m 



r^. . , 








ND on her lover's arm she leant, 

And round her waist she felt it fold, 
And far across the hills they went 
In that new world which is the old; 
Across the hills, and far away 

Beyond their utmost purple rim, 
And deep into the dying day 

The happy princess followed him. 

I'd sleep another hundred years, 

O love, for such another kiss!" 
"Oh! wake forever, love," she hears, 

"O love! 'twas such as this and this.'* 
And o'er them many a sliding star, 

And many a merry wind was borne. 
And, streamed through many a golden bar, 

The twihght melted into morn. 

"O eyes long laid in happy sleep!" 
"O happy sleep, that lightly fled!" 

"O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!" 
"O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!" 

38 





x><><i <K>6c 






ICKXXX 






And o'er them many a flowing range 
Of vapour buoyed the crescent bark, 

And, rapt through many a rosy change. 
The twihght died into the dark. 

"A hundred Summers! can it be? 

And whither goest thou, tell me where?" 
"O seek my father's court with me, 

For there are greater wonders there!" 
And o'er the hills, and far away 

Beyond their utmost purple rim. 
Beyond the night, across the day, 

Through all the world she followed him. 

— Temiyson 



fyxxx 



I 



In My Beloved s Eyes 

LOOKED into the midnight deep. 

And saw the steadfast stars. 
True sentinels that never sleep, 
Beyond earth's prison bars. 
I looked in my Beloved's eyes, 

And saw her radiant soul 
Still steadfast in the Heav'niy skies 
Of love's remotest goaL 

39 — Chauvenet 




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At the Mid Hour of Night 



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T the mid hour ot night, when stars are 
weeping, I lly 
To the lone vale we loved, when life 
shone warm in thine eye; 
And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the 

regions of air 
To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt 

come to me there 
And tell me our love is remember'd, even in the 
sky! 

Then I sing the wild song it once was rapture 

to hear 
When our voices, commingling, breathed like 

one on the ear; 
And as Echo far off through the vale my sad 

orison rolls, 
I think, O my Love! 'tis thy voice, from the'^ 

Kingdom of Souls 
Faintly answering still the notes that once 

were so dear. 




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SHE stood breast-high amid the corn, 
Clasped by the golden light of morn, 
Like the sweetheart of the sun, 
Who many a glowing kiss had won. 

On her cheek an autumn flush, 
Deeply ripen'd; — such a bkish 
In the midst of brown was born, 
Like red poppies grown with corn. 

Round her eyes the tresses fell. 
Which were blackest none could tell, 
But long Lashes veiled a hght 
That had else been all too bright. 

And her hat, with shady brim, 
Made her tressy forehead dim;— 
Thus she stood amid the stooks, 
Praising God with sweetest looks. 

Sure, I said, Heav'n did not mean, 
Where I reap thou should'st but glean; 
Lay thy sheaf adown and come. 
Share my harvest and my home. 

41 —Hood 



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Jean 



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OF a' the airts the wind can blaw 
I dearly like the West, 
For there the bonnie lassie lives, 
The lassie I lo'e best: 
There wild woods grow, and rivers row. 

And mony a hill between; 
But day and night my fancy's flight 
Is ever wi' my Jean. 

I see her in the dewy flowers, 

I see her sweet and fair: 
I hear her in the tunefu' birds, 

1 hear her charm the air: 
There's not a bonnie flower that springs 

By fountain, shaw, or green, 
There's not a bonnie bird that sings 

But mmds me o' my Jean. 





42 




X>0<> 










O blaw ye westlin' winds, blaw saft 

Amang the leafy trees; 
Wi' balmy gale, frae hill and dale 

Bring hame the laden bees; 
And bring the lassie back to me 

That's aye sae neat and clean; 
Ae smile o' her wad banish care, 

Sae charming is my Jean. 

What sighs and vows amang the knowes 

Hae pass'd atween us twa ! 
How fond to meet, how wae to part 

That night she gaed awa ! 
The Powers aboon can only ken 

To whom the heart is seen. 
That nane can be sae dear to me 

As my sweet lovely Jean! 

— Burns 




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The Marriage of True Minds 

E' me not to the marriage of true minds 
Admit impediments. Love is not love, 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove: 
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, 
That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 
It is the star to every wandering bark 
Whose worth's unknown, although his height 
be taken. 

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and 

cheeks 
Within his bending sickle's compass come; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and 

weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 
If this be error and upon me proved, 
I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

— Shakespeare 




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<xx><x>« 






IRDS in the high Hall-garden, 
When twiHght was falhng, 
Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud, 
They Vv^ere crying and caHing. 

Where was Maud? In our wood; 

And I, who else, was with her. 
Gathering woodland hhes, 

Myriads blow together. 

Birds in our wood sang, 
Ringing thro' the valleys, 

Maud is here, here, here 
In among the lilies. 

I kiss'd her slender hand. 
She took the kiss sedately; 

Maud is not seventeen, 
But she is tall and stately. 

I to cry out on pride 

Who have won her favour! 

O Maud were sure of Heaven 
If lowliness could save her. 

45 



Tennyson 










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He and I 

UST drifting on together — 

He and I — 
As through the bahiiy weather 
Of July 
Drift two thistle-tufts imbedded 
Each in each — by zephyrs wedded — 
Touring upward, giddy-headed, 
For the sky. 

And, veering up and onward, 

Do we seem 
Forever drifting dawnward 

In a dream. 
Where we meet song-birds that know us. 
And the winds their kisses blow us. 
While the years flow far below us 

Like a stream. 



And we are happy — very- 
He and I — 
'jSjrlM/^ Aye, even glad and merry 
Though on high 

46 






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The Heavens are sometimes shrouded 
By the midnight storm, and clouded 
Till the pallid moon is crowded 
From the sky. 

My spirit ne'er expresses 

Any choice 
But to clothe him with caresses 

And rejoice; 
And as he laughs, it is in 
Such a tone the moonbeams ghsten 
And the stars come out to listen 

To his voice. 

And so, whate'er the weather, 

He and I, — 
With our Kves hnked thus together. 

Float and fly 
As two thistle-tufts imbedded 
Each in each — by zephyrs wedded^ 
Touring upward, giddy-headed. 

For the sky. 



47 



W^ydd^-'- 




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I Love But Thee 






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IF, after all, you still will doubt and fear nie, 
And think this heart to other loves will 
stray. 
It I must swear, then, lovely doubter, hear me; 
By every dream I have when thou'rt away, 
By every throb I feel when thou art near me, 

I love but thee — I love but thee! jC ^ 

By those dark eyes, where Kght is ever playing, 
W here Love in depth of shadow holds his 
throne. 
And by those hps, which give whate'er 
thou'rt saying. 
Or grave or gay, a music of its own, 
A music far beyond all minstrel's pLaying, 
I love but thee — I \o\q but thee! 

By that fair brow, where Innocence reposes. 

As pure as moonlight sleeping upon snow. 
And by that cheek, whose fleeting blush dis- 
closes 
A hue too bright to bless this world below, 
And only fit to dwell on Eden's roses, 

I love but thee — I love but thee! J^ 

48 — Moore ^ ^ 



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RINK to me only with thine eyes 
And I will pledge with mine; 
Or leave a kiss within the cup 
And I'll not look for wine. 
The thirst that from the soul doth rise 

Doth ask a drink divine; 
But might I of Jove's neetar sup, 
I would not change for thine. 



I sent thee late a rosy wreath, 

Not so much honouring thee 
As giving it a hope that there 

It could not wither'd be; 
But thou thereon didst only breathe 

And sent'st it back to me; 
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear. 

Not of itself but thee. 

— Jonson 




XXX 




A Song of the Four Seasons 

WHEN Spring comes laughing, by 
vale and hill, 
By wind-flower walking and daf- 
fodil- 
Sing stars of morning, sing morning skies, 
Sing blue of speedwell, and my Love's eyes. 

When comes the Summer, fufl-Ieaved and 

strong. 
And gay birds gossip, the orchard long, — 
Sing hid, sweet honey, that no bee sips, 
Sing red, red roses, and my Love's lips. 

When Autumn scatters the leaves again, ^^ 

And piled sheaves bury the broad-wheeled O 

wain, — 
Sing flutes of harvest, where men rejoice; 
Sing rounds of reapers, and my Love's voice. 

But when comes Winter, wath hail and storm, 
And red iire roaring, and ingle warm, — 
Sing first sad going of friends that part; 
Then sing glad meeting, and my Love's heart. 










Thine Eyes 

BRIGHT sapphires are those eyes of thine 
The lovehest, the sweetest. 
Oh, three times happy is the man 
Whom with their love thou greetest. 

Thy heart it is a diamond, 

With noblest kistre gleaming. 
Oh, three times happy is the man 

For whom with love 'tis beaming. 

And rubies are those Hps of thine, 

Rarer the world saw never. 
Oh, three times happy is the man 

Blest with their love for ever. 

I Am Thy Harp 

I AM thy harp, that all unknown thou 
sweepest. 
Strung to a thousand melodies of thee. 
And all too hghtly canst thou draw my fullest 
And deepest music for thy minstrelsy. 




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Go Not, Happy Day 

O not, happy day, 

From the shining fields. 
Go not, happy day. 
Till the maiden yields. 



r^ 



Rosy is the West, 
Rosy is the South, 

Roses are her cheeks, 
And a rose her mouth. 

When the happy Yes 
Falters from her hps, 

Pass and bhish the news 
Over glowing ships; 

Over blowing seas. 

Over seas at rest. 
Pass the happy news, 

Bhish it thro' the West; 

Till the red man dance, 
By his red cedar tree. 

And the red man's babe 
Leap, beyond the sea. 











K 



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Blush from West to East, 
Blush from East to West, 

Till the West is East, 
Bhish it thro' the West. 

Rosy is the West, 

Rosy is the South, 
Roses are her cheeks. 

And a rose her mouth. 



Love 



]k"- 



Tennyson 



TO keep one sacred flame 
Through hfe unchilled, unmoved. 
To love in wintry age, the same 
As first in youth we loved, 
To feel that we adore 

Even to such fond excess 
That though the heart would break with more. 
It could not live with less. 

— Moore 




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Mellow Moonlight 

MELLOW moonlight warm, 
Weave round my Love a charm; 
O countless, starry eyes 
Watch from the holy skies; 
O ever-solemn night. 
Shield her within thy might: 
Watch her, my little one! 
Shield her, ray darhng! 

How my heart shrinks with fear. 
Nightly to leave thee, dear; 
Lovely and pure, within 
Vast glooms of woe and sin; 
Our wealth of love and bliss 
Too Heavenly-perfect is: 

Good night, my little one! 

God keep thee, darling! 



Th 



omson 





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DID not choose thee, dearest. It was Love 
That made the choice, not I. Mine eyes 
were blind 

As a rude shepherd's who to some lone grove 
His offerings brings, and cares not at what 
shrine 
He bends his knee. The gifts alone were mine; 
The rest was Love's. He took me by the 
hand, 
And fired the sacrifice, and poured the wine, 

And spoke the words I might not understand. 
I was unwise in all but the dear chance 

Which was my fortune, and the blind desire 
Which led my foolish steps to love's abode. 
And youth's subhme unreasoned prescience 
Which raised an altar and inscribed in fire 
Its dedication "to the unknown god." 

—Blunt 



0-XX>< 
WW 



55 






TO^^>^'"^ 





Spanish Serenade 



STARS of the Summer night! 
Far in yon azure deeps, 
Hide, hide your golden light! 
She sleeps! 
My lady sleeps! 
Sleeps ! 

Moon of the Summer night! 

Far down yon Western steeps, 
Sink, sink in silver light! 

She sleeps! 
My lady sleeps! 

Sleeps ! 

Wind of the Summer night! 

Where yonder woodbine creeps, 
Fold, fold thy pinions hght! 

She sleeps! 
My lady sleeps! 

Sleeps ! 



P 



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Dreams of the Summer night! 

Tell her, her lover keeps 
Watch! while in shimbers light 

She sleeps! 
My lady sleeps! 

Sleeps ! ^Longfellow 

Loves Grammar 

THE stars far off in Heaven 
Stand motionless up there, 
Thousands of years they gaze on 
Each other in love's despair. 

They speak a wondrous language 

That is most rich and grand; 
Yet none of our learned professors 

That language can understand. 

But I so well have lea'-nt it, 

Each word in my heart hves on; 

For I have used as my grammar 
The face of my dearest One. 








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A/1/1 /c^ IaiukIc 

AXWELTON braes arc honnlo 

\\ horo early ta's the clew, 

Aiul it's there that Annie Laurie 

Gie\l nie her |)roniise true, — 

Glo'd me her promise true, 

\\ hieh ne'er forgot \\\\\ be. 

And tor bonnie Annie Laurie 

Lcl hiy me doune and dee. 

Her brow is like the snawdrift; 

Her throat is like the swan; 
Ller taee it is the fairest 

That e'er the sun shone on, — • 
Ihat e'er the sun shone on. 

And dark blue is her ee; 
And for bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me doune and dee. 

Like dew on the gowan lying 
Is the fa' o' her fair\- teet; 











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And like winds in Summer sighing 
licr voice is low and sweet,— 

McT voice is low and sweet; 
And she's a' the world to me; 

And for bonnie Annie Laurie 
Vd lay me doune and dee. 




Song 

OVE is by fancy led about 

From hope to fear, from joy to doubt; 
Whom we now an angel call, 
Divinely graced in every feature, 
Straight's a deform'd, a pcrjur'd creature; 
Love and hate are fancy all. 



C 



'Tis but as fancy shall present 
Objects of grief, or of content, 
That the lover's blest, or dies; 
y- WX!^ Visions of mighty pain, or pleasure, 

f\/^\y/jgl^ Imagined want, imagined treasure, 
>^p4aS>(K| ^^^ ^^ powerful fancy lies. 



♦ _ 




— Granville 




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Darby and Joan 

DARBY dear, we are old and gray, 
Fifty years since our wedding day, 
Shadow and sun for every one 
As the years roll on; 
Darby dear, when the world went wry, 
Hard and sorrowful then was I — 
Ah! lad, how you cheered me then. 
Things will be better, sweet wife, again! 
Always the same, Darby, my own. 
Always the same to your old wife Joan. 

Darby dear, but my heart was wild 

When we buried our baby child. 

Until you whispered, "Heaven knows best!" 

And my heart found rest; 

Darby dear, 'twas your loving hand 

Showed the way to the better land — 

Ah! lad, as you kissed each tear, 

Life grew better and Heaven more near. 

Always the same, Darby, my own, 

Always the same to your old wife Joan. 






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Hand in hand when our hfe was May, 
Hand in hand when our hair is gray, 
Shadow and sun for every one. 
As the years roll on; 
Hand in hand when the long night tide 
Gently eovers us side by side — 
Ah! lad, though we know not when, 
Love will be with us forever then; 
Always the same, Darby, my own. 
Always the same to your old wife Joan. 

— Weatherhy 

May 

N the sweet marvelous month of May, 
When all the buds were springing. 
There in my heart among them 
New-born I found Love singing. 

In the sweet marvelous month of May, 

When all the birds were singing, 
I told her all the longings 

That my fond heart were wringing. 

— Heine 
6i 








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That Thou Hast Her 

^HAT thou hast her, it is not all my grief, 
And yet it may be said I loved her 
dearly; 
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief, 

A loss in Io\-e that touches me more nearly. 
Loving otTenders, thus will I excuse ye: 

Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I 
love her; 
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, 
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve 
her. 
If I love thee, my loss is my love's gain, 
And losing her, my friend hath found that 
loss ; 
Both and each other, and I lose both twain, 

And both for my sake lay on me this cross: 
But here's the joy: my friend and I are one; 
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone. 

— Shakespeare 






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The Triumph of Love 

Love, dear Love. In vain I 
scoff. In vain 

ply my barren wit, and jest at thee. 
Thou heedest not, or dost forgive the pain. 
And in thy own good time and thy 

own way, 
Waiting my silence, thou dost 

vanquish me. 
Thou comest at thy will in sun or rain, 
And at the hour appointed, a Spring day, 
An Autumn night: and lo, I serve again. 
Forgive me, touch me, chide me. 

What to thee, 
God that thou art, are these vain shifts 

of mine? 
Let me but know thee. Thou alone art wise. 
I ask not to be wise or great or free 
jp_l Or aught but at thy knees and wholly thine, -^ >^^^ 
\, Thus, and to feel thy hand upon mine ^m§^ 



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xX^ 



She Was a Phantom of Delight 

SHE was a phantom of delight, 
When first she gleamed upon my sight; 
A lovely apparition sent 
To be a moment's ornament; 
Her eyes as stars of twihght fair; 
Like Twihght's too, her dusky hair; 
But all things else about her drawn 
From May-time and the cheerful dawn; 
A dancing shape, an image gay, 
To haunt, to startle, and waylay. 

I saw her upon nearer view, 

A spirit, yet a woman too. 

Her household motions light and free, 

And steps of virgin-liberty; 

A countenance in which did meet 

Sweet records, promises as sweet; 

A creature not too bright or good 

For human nature's daily food, 

For transient sorrows, simple wiles. 

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 





W 



^^»^>^ 



CKXXl 







And now I see with eye serene 
The very pulse of the machine, 
A being breathing thoughtful breath 
A traveler between life and death; 
The reason firm, the temperate will. 
Endurance, foresight, strength and skill; 
A perfect woman, nobly planned 
To warn, to comfort, and command; 
And yet a spirit still, and bright, 
With something of an angel-hght. 

— Wordsworth 






To Love One Maiden 

'O love one maiden only, cleave to her. 

And worship her by years of noble deeds. 

Until they won her; for indeed I knew 

Of no more subtle master under Heaven 

Than is the maiden passion for a maid 

Not only to keep down the base in man, 

But teach high thought, and amiable words 

And courthness, and the desire of fame. 

And love of truth, and all that makes a man. 

— Tennyson 
65 



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A Lorn 1^1 a I nt 




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^HERE is a change, — and I am poor; 
\ our love hath been, nor long ago, 
A fountain at my fond licart's door, 
Whose only business was to How; 
And flow it did, not taking heed 
Of its own bounty, or my need. 

\\ hat happ3^ moments did I count! 

Blest was I then all bhss above! 
Now, for that consecrated fount 

Of murmuring, sparkling, living love, 
What have I? Shall I dare to tell? 

A comfortless and hidden well, 

A well of love; it may be deep, — 

I trust it is, — and never dry. 
What matter? If the waters sleep 

In silence and obscurity. 
Such change, and at the very door 

Of my fond heart, hath made me poor. 

— Wordsworth 








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Sonnet 

RUST me, I have not earned your dear 
rebuke. 

love, as you would have me, God y^y 
the most; 
Would love not you, but Him, must one be ^ .^*^\j/l 

lost, K/^^^ y/? 

Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look, 
Unready to forego what I forsook. 

This say I, having counted up the cost; 

This, though I be the feeblest of God's host; If^SS^^f/^S/ 
The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His ^y'^/^^/^/ 

Yet while I love my God the most, I deem 

That I can never love you overmuch; 
I love Him more, so let me love you too. 

Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such 
I cannot love you if I love not Him, 

cannot love Him if I love not you. 

—Rossetti 



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AX/XX 




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XXX 




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Swallow, Swallow 




SW^ALLOW, Swallow, flying, flying 

South, 
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded 
eaves. 
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. 



O 





O tell her. Swallow, thou that knowest each, 
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, 
And dark and true and tender is the North. 

O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and 
light 
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill. 
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. 

O were I thou that she might take me in, 
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart 
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died. 

Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with 
love. 
Delaying as the tender ash delays 
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green? J 

68 





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O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown : 
Say to her, I do but wanton in the South, 
But in the North long since my nest is made. 

O tell her, brief is hfe but love is long. 

And brief the sun of Summer in the North, 

And brief the moon of beauty in the South. 

O Swallow, flying from the golden woods. 
Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make 

her mine, 
And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee. 

— Tennyson 

So Pure and Fair 

SWEET as a flower thou seemest. 
So pure and fair thou art, 
I gaze on thee, and sadness 
Steals gently into my heart. 

I long to lay on thy forehead 

My hand, as I feel 'tw^ere meet, 
Praying that God will preserve thee 

As pure and fair and sweet. tj • 

69 






. j-V/N^X/^ 




The Banks of Doon 



1 H( 



E banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, 
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; 
[ow can ye chant, ye httle birds, 
And I sae weary, fu' o' care! 
Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird. 

That wantons through the flowering thorn. 
Thou 'mindst me o' departed joys. 
Departed — never to return! 

Aft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon, 
To see the rose and woodbine twine; 

And ilka bird sang o' its hive. 
And fondly sae did I o' mine. 



(XXX 
(XXX 

666i 

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^ XvlB^ Wi' Hghtsome heart I pu'd a rose, 
^^>^j^ Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; 



And my fause luver stole my rose, 
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me 




^'^v 



— Burns 



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Mistress Mine 

MISTRESS mine, where are you 



Oh, stay and hear! your true-love's 
coming 
That can sing both high and low; 
Trip no further, pretty sweeting. 
Journeys end in lovers meeting — 
Every wise man's son doth know. 

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter; 
Present mirth hath present laughter; 

What's to come is still unsure: 
In delay there lies no plenty — 
Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty, 

Youth's a stuff will not endure. 

— Shakespeare 









Love Me a Little 

OVE me a little, love me as thou wilt, 

Whether a draught it be of passionate 
wine 
Poured with both hands divine. 
Or just a cup of water spilt 
On dying lips and mine. 
Give me the love thou wilt, 
The purity, the guilt. 
So it be thine. 

Love me a little. Let it be thy cheek 
With its red signals that were dear to kiss, 
Or, if thou mayest not this, 
A fmger-tip my own to seek 
At nightfall when none guess. 
Eyes have the wit to speak, 
And sighs send messages: 
Even give less. 



./ 



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a! 






Love me a little. Let it be in \vords 

Of happy omen heralding thy choice, 

Or in a veiled sad voice 

Of warning Hke a frightened bird's. 

How should I not reioice 

Though swords be crossed with swords 

And discord mar love's chords, 

And tears thy voice? 

Love me a little. All my world thou art. 

Thy much were Heaven: thy httle Earth 

shall be. 

If not Eternity, 

Then Time be mine, the human part, 

A single hour with thee; 

Love as thou wilt and art. 

With all or half a heart, 

So thou love me. 

— Blunt 













When Thou Art Near Me 



w 



'HEN thou art near me. 

Sorrow seems to fly, 
And then I think, as well I may. 
That on this earth there is no one 
More blest than I, 






But when thou leav'st me. 

Doubts and fears arise, 
And darkness reigns. 

Where all before was light. • 
The sunshine of my soul 

Is in those eyes. 
And when they leave me 

All the world is night. 

But when thou art near me. 

Sorrow seems to fly, 
And then I feel, as well I may, 
That on this earth there dwells not one 

So blest as I. 




-Scott 



74 













> 
> 







s 



1 




The Brave Lover 

HALL I, wasting in despair, 
Die, because a woman's fair? 
Or make pale my cheeks with care, 
'Cause another's rosy are? 
Be she fairer than the day, 
Or the flowery meads in May! 
If she be not so to me, 
What care I how fair she be? 

Great, or good, or kind, or fair, 

I will ne'er the more despair! 

If she love me (this beUeve! 

I will die, ere she shall grieve! 

If she slight me, when I woo, 

I can scorn, and let her go! 
For if she be not for me. 
What care I for whom she be? 







>92SL 






The Passionate Shepherd 
To His Love 






COME IWc with nic and be my Love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That hills and valleys, dale and field, 
And all the craggy mountains yield. 

There will we sit upon the rocks 
And see the shepherds feed their flocks, 
By shallow river, to whose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

There will I make thee beds of roses 
And a thousand fragrant posies, 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. 

A gown made of the flnest w^ool. 
Which from our pretty lambs we pull; 
Fair lined slippers for the cold. 
With buckles of the purest gold. 

A belt of straw and ivy buds 
With coral clasps and amber studs; 
And if these pleasures may thee move, 
Come live with me and be my Love. 

76 










Thy silver dishes for thy meat 
As precious as the gods do eat, 
Shall on an ivory table be 
Prepared each day for thee and me. 

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing 
For thy dehght each May-morning; 
If these dehghts thy mind may move, 
Then live with me and be my Love. 

— Marlowe 



H 



The True Lover 

E who looks and falls in love. 
If a beauteous face he see. 
Doth himself no lover prove 
By his longing; but if he 
Should a plainer maid admire 
His is love, and his is fire. 

All who have discerning eyes 

In a lovely lass delight; 
But who, when the arrow flies. 

Pining for a girl less bright, 
Knows the burning heart's desire. 
His is love, and his is fire. 










Sonnet from the Portuguese 

G 



XXX) 



O from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand 
Henceforward in thy shadow. Never- 
more 

Alone upon the threshold of my door 
Of individual hfe, I shall command 
The uses of my soul, nor Hft my hand 
Serenely in the sunshine as before, 
Without the sense of that which I forbore, — 
Thy touch upon the pahii. The widest land 
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine 

With pulses that beat double. What I do 
And what I dream include thee, as the w^ine 

Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue 
God for myself. He hears that name of thine, 
And sees within my eyes the tears of two. 

— Mrs. Browning 



mi 




w^^ ^ 

f ^^. 





Old English Love Song 

EAR, if you change, I'll never choose |^ 
again; 
Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think 
of love; 
Fair, if you fail, I'll judge all beauty vain; 
Wise, if too weak, more wits I'll never prove. 
Dear, sweet, fair,wise,— change, shrink, nor be 

not weak; 
And, on my faith, my faith shall never break. 






Earth with her flowers shall sooner Heaven 

adorn; 
Heaven her bright stars through earth's dim 
globe shall move, 
^\f/ Fire heat shall lose, and frosts of llame be born; 1 
|Xjy Air, made to shine, as black as hell shall prove: 
Earth, heaven, fire, air, the world transformed 
shall view, 
\^ Ere I prove false to faith, or strange to you. 

— Dowland 







The Snows of Yesterday 

I WONDER in what Isle of Bliss 
Apollo's music fills the air; 
In what green valley Artemis 
For young Endymion spreads the snare 
Where Venus lingers debonair: 

The Wind has blown them all away — 
And Pan lies piping in his lair — 
Where are the Gods of Yesterday? 

Say where the great Semiramis 

Sleeps in a rose-red tomb; and where 
The precious dust of Caesar is, 

Or Cleopatra's yellow hair: 
Where Alexander Do-and-Dare; 

The Wind has blown them all away^ 
And Redbeard of the Iron Chair; 

Where are the Dreams of Yesterday? 

Where is the Queen of Herod's kiss, 
And Phryne in her beauty bare; 





% *i 



's^ \ 



/ 



By what strange sea does Tomyris 
With Dido and Cassandra share 

Divine Proserpina's despair; 

The Wind has blown them all away — 

For what poor ghost does Helen care? 
Where are the Girls of Yesterday? 

Alas for lovers! Pair by pair 

The Wind has blown them all away: 

The young and yare, the fond and fair: 
Where are the Snows of Yesterday? 

— Villon 

Silent Love 

C'E, when 'tis true, needs not the aid 
Of sighs, nor aches, to make it known, 
And to convince the cruellest maid. 
Lovers should use their love alone. 
Into their very looks 'twill steal, 

And he that most would hide his ITame, 
Does in that case his pain reveal: 

Silence itself can love proclaim. 

— Sedley 




^ 








^ 



^ 

^ 




Wont You? 

O you rcnicnibcr when you heard 
My lips breathe love's first faltering 
word? 
You do, sweet— don't you? 
When, having wandered all the day, 
Linked arm in arm, I dared to say: 
"You'll love me — won't you?" 

And when you blushed and eould not speak, 
I fondly kissed your glowing eheek; 

Did that alfront you? 
Oh! surely not; your eye exprest 
No wrath— but said perhaps in jest: 

"You'll love 7?ie— won't vou?" 




k)^>X^ 





<xx 



p 



ACK clouds away, and welcome day; 
With night we banish sorrow; 
Sweet air, blow soft, mount hirk, aloft, 
To give my love good-morrow. 
Wings from the wind to please her mind. 

Notes from the lark, I'll borrow; 
Bird, prune thy wing! Nightingale, sing! 
To give my love good-morrow. 
To give my love good-morrow. 
Notes from them all I'll borrow. 

Wake from thy nest, robin-redbreast! 

Sing, birds, in every furrow; 
And from each bill let music shrill 
Give my fair love good-morrow! 
Blackbird and thrush, in every bush, 

Stare, hnnet, and cock-sparrow, 
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves. 
Sing my fair love good-morrow. 
To give m^r love good-morrow. 
Sing, birds, in every furrow. 

— Hey wood 

«3 







DM < 




j^om 



XXXX 






'^mxxxxx. 



y^y\y\/\yhy\y^y\yi\/ 



X^ 




vT -V ^ ^ 




\^^tf\ni\^ /^\ ^ fim 




I Cannot Help Loving Thee 

IF the apple grows on the apple tree, 
And the wild wind blows o'er the wild 
wood free, 
And the deep streams How to the deeper sea ; 
And they cannot help growing, and blowing, 
and flowing, 

I cannot help loving thee. 

But if wild winds blew no more on the lea. 
And no blossoms grew on the healthy tree, 
And the river untrue escaped the sea; 
And they all had ceased growing, and blowing, 
and flowing, 

I'd never cease loving thee. 

And till that hour in the day or night, 
In the field or bower, in the dark or light, 
In the fruit or llower, in the bloom or blight, 
In my reaping or sowing, my coming or going, 
I'll never cease lovinor thee. 






Li^yx:^ ?^>^ 




Love me with thine open youth 

In its frank surrender; 
V/ith the vowing of thy mouth, 

With its silence tender. 

Love me with thine azure eyes, 

Made for earnest granting! 
Taking colour from the skies, 

Can Heaven's truth be wanting? 

Love me with thine hand stretched out 

Freely — open-minded : 
Love me with thy loitering foot, — 

Hearing one behind it. 

Love me with thy voice, that turns 

Sudden faint above me; 
Love me with thy bhish that burns 

When I murmur "Love me!" 

• — Mrs. Broivning 

85 




'^X^^Xi^' 



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Dost Thou Remember 

OST thou remember that place so 
lonely, 
A place for lovers, and lovers only, 
Where first I told thee all my secret sighs? 
When as the moonbeam, that trembled o'er 

thee. 
Illumed thy blushes, I knelt before thee, 
And read my hope's sweet triumph in those 
eyes? 
Then, then, while closely heart was drawn to 

heart. 
Love bound us — never, never more to part — 
And when I call'd thee by names the dearest 
That love could fancy, the fondest, nearest— 

"My life, my only life!" among the rest; 
In those sweet accents that still inthral me, 
Thou saidst, "Ah! wherefore thy life thus call 

me? ^ 

Thy soul, thy soul's the name that I love Jt^f ^v> 

best; H^f^ 

For life soon passes — but how bless'd to be i^>.^fc^^X 
That soul which never, never parts from thee!" 

—Moore 
86 













Mv 



p 



XXM 



Song 

RITHEE send me back my heart, 

Since I cannot have thine, 
For if from yours you will not part, 
Why, then, shouldst thou have mine? 

Yet now I think on't, let it he; 

To find it were in vain; 
For thou'st a thief in either eye 

Would steal it back again. 

Why should two hearts in one breast he, 

And yet not lodge together? 
O Love! where is thy sympathy, 

If thus our breasts thou sever? 

But love is such a mystery, 

I cannot find it out; 
For when I think I'm best resolved, 

I then am in most doubt. 

Then farewell care, and farewell woe, 

I will no longer pine: 
For I'll beheve I have her heart 

As much as she has mine. 





^isi£^>C 




K^ 




At the Church Gate 





ALTHOUGH I enter not, 
Yet round the spot 
Oft-times I hover: 
And near the sacred gate, 
With longing eyes I wait. 
Expectant of her. 

The Minster bell tolls out 
Above the city's rout. 

And noise and humming: 
They've hushed the Minster bell; 
The organ 'gins to swell; 

She's coming, she's coming! 

My lady comes at last. 
Timid, and stepping fast, 

And hastening hither. 
With modest eyes downcast : 
She comes^ — she's here — she's past: 

May heaven go with her! 



V 





(y 



^*4 







Kneel undisturbed, fair saint! 
Pour out your praise or plaint 

Meekly and duly; 
I will not enter there 
To sully your pure prayer 

With thoughts unruly. 

But sufler me to pace 

Round the forbidden place, 

Lingering a minute 

Like outcast spirits who wait 

And see through Heaven's gate 

Angels within it. ^j , 

— 1 hacker ay 

The Stowaway 

LONE in the dark post-wagon 

We travelled the lovelong night; 
We nestled close to each other, 
With laughing and jesting light. 

But how we stared next morning, 
My lassie, when broke the day! 

For 'twixt us two sat Cupid, 

A smiling stowaway. jj . 

89 



V-- 




Si 






^^m" 









/\/<s 





To Althea, from Prison 

WHEN Love, with unconfmed wings, 
Hovers within my gates, 
And my divine Althea brings 
To whisper at the grates; 
When I lie tangled in her hair 

And fetter'd to her eye, 
The birds that wanton in the air 
Know no such liberty. 

Stone walls do not a prison make, 

Nor iron bars a cage; 
Minds innocent and quiet take 

That for a hermitage: 
If I have freedom in my love, 

And in my soul am free, 
Angels alone, that soar above. 

Enjoy such liberty. 



^^^^~% 








y jk^^^s^ 




Loves Omnipresence 

WERE I as base as is the lowly plain, 
And you, my Love, as high as Heaven 
above, 
Yet should the thoughts of me your humble 

swain 
Ascend to Heaven, in honour of my Love. 
Were I as high as Heaven above the plain, 
And you, my Love, as humble and as low 
As are the deepest bottoms of the main, 
Whereso'er you were, with you my love should 

go- 
Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies, 

My love should shine on you like to the sun. 

And look upon you with ten thousand eyes 

Till Heaven wax'd blind, and till the world were 

done. 
Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you, 
Whereso'er you are, my heart shall truly love 

you. 

— Sylvester 



>.•, 




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I 



Sonnet from the Portuguese 

F I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange 
And be all to me? Shall I never miss 
Home-talk and blessing, and the common 
kiss 
That comes to each in turn , nor cou nt it strange, 
When I look up, to drop on a new range 
Of walls and lloors — another home than this? 
Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is 
Filled by dead eyes, too tender to know change? 

That's hardest! If to conquer love, has tried, 
To conquer grief tries more — as all things 
prove : 
For grief indeed is love, and grief beside. 

Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love — 
Yet love me — wilt thou? Open thine heart 
wide, 
And fold within the wet wings of thy dove. 

—Mrs. Browning 



ft 



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92 






The Love-Letter 

EAR EIpIs, all my thoughts and all my 
wishes are for thee — 
Well be it with my sweetest girl, if so 
indeed it be 
That aught may e'er be well with her, when she 

is far from me. &<^m'^ 'V 

^yA\} Alone, and all unmated, by thy shining eyes, I lx^<!^\j 
^"X ^ swear 

nJ/J This solitary life of mine no longer I can bear: 
pp|v ^i. y There is no rest or peace for me without thee, 
/N|/\J/>J anywhere. 

I cannot see the palaces or towers for my tears; 
The landscape, too, is blotted with a mist that 
never clears; 
y All dim and pale the temple of great Artemis 
/^I'ijs/J^ appears. 

y^^j[\^\, To-morrow^ I am going home; ah, gods, what 
^ ^^wx happiness! 

1 \/l And when against my heart again, thee, dear 
. WJjl\^| one, I shall press, 

^^vpj^i A thousand times I'll kiss thee, and a thousand 
^ ^1 times caress. -Sedgwick 





93 



14)Q<X. 



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xiSiS^^xxx 



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xxxxxxx^ 






hi 












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P/i(7/;,s 

iHILLIS is my only joy, 

Faithless as the winds or seas, 
Sometimes cunning, sometimes coy, 
Yet she never fails to please; 
If with a frown 
I am cast down, 
Philhs smihng 
And bcguihng 
Makes mc happier than before. 

Though ahis! too hite I find 
Nothing can her fancy fix. 
Yet the moment she is kind 
I forgive her v>ith her tricks; 
Which though I see, 
I can't get free,— 
She deceiving, 
I believing, — 
What need lovers wish for more? 









<xx xy^m< x,>9<2:xxxxaaA^ 






Ask Me No More 

SK me no more: the moon may draw 
the sea; 
The cloud may stoop from Heaven and 
take the shape, 
With told to fold, of mountain or of cape: 
<^ y/^ x'^ But, O too fond, when have I answer'd thee? 



A 



V 



Ask 



me no more. 






Ask me no more: what answer should I give? 
I love not hollow cheek or faded eye: 
Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die! 

Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live; 
Ask me no more. 

Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd: ^ \\ ) 
I strove against the stream and all in vain: y\SV/^ 
Let the great river take me to the main: 
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield; 
Ask me no more. 

— Tennyson 



w'^ 




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<>0<X 
0<X>< 

<xxx 



I 



// / Were King 

F I were king — Ah, love, if I were king! 
What tributary nations would I bring 
To stoop before your sceptre and to swear 
Allegiance to your lips and eyes and hair! 
Beneath your feet w-hat treasures I would fling: 
The stars should be your pearls upon a string, 
The w^orld a ruby for your finger ring, 
And you should have the sun and moon to wear 
If I were king. 

Let these wild dreams and wilder words take 

wing; 
Deep in the woods I hear a shepherd sing 
A simple ballad to a sylvan air, 
Of love that ever finds your face more fair. 
I could not give you any goodlier thing 
If I were king. 

—McCarthy 



rvvv 

><><>Q 
XXX) 

AovV 

t 



96 



X\AX><^/V< 







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XXX 

XXX 

^^ 

<Xl<> 




Who Is Sylvia 

HO is Sylvia? What is she, 
That all our swains commend her? 
Holy, fair, and wise is she, 
The Heaven such grace did lend her, 
That she might admired be. 



w; 




Is she kind as she is fair? 

For beauty lives with kindness: 
Love doth to her eyes repair, 

To help him of his blindness; 
And, being help'd, inhabits there. 

Then to Sylvia let us sing. 
That Sylvia is excelhng: 
She excels each mortal thing, 
Upon the dull earth dwelhng: 
\^^^IN^ To her let us garlands bring. 



— Shakespeare 



X 









k 




XX7 




» 



My Wife s a Winsome 
Wee Thing 

HE is a winsome wee thing, 
She is a handsome wee thing, 
She is a bonnie wee thing, 
This sweet wee wife o' mine. 



s 



I never saw a fairer, 
I never lo'ed a dearer, 
And niest my heart I'll wear her 
For fear my jewel tine. 

She is a winsome wee thing. 
She is a handsome wee thing, 
She is a bonnie wee thing. 
This sweet wee wife o' mine. 

The warl's wrack we share o't, 
The warstle and the care o't; 
Wi' her I'll bhthely bear it, 
And think my lot divine. 




Burns 








\ 



'p- 






"^ 



By Love Must Love Be Mastered \ 



\ love must love be mastered, fire by fire, 
Passion by passion. When the heart 
grows warm, 
Its flames must quench the 11a me of its desire, 
Its new-found strength must quell its gath- 
ering storm. 
Not law, not duty, not the warning voice 

Of saint or angel keeps love's compass true; 
Reckless of Fate love makes its fateful choice: 

To love alone is love's allegiance due. 
Love's power alone can make love's passion 
pure: 
Love's voice alone can bid love's tumult 
cease: 
Love's pain alone can make love's bhss endure: 
Love's fire alone brings to love's fever peace. 
O love! inflame my heart, and set it free 
From every wild unhallowed dream of thee. 

—Holmes 









w^^ 











A Birthday 

Y heart is like a singing l3ird 
Whose nest is in a watered shoot; . 
My heart is hke an apple tree 
Whose boughs are bent with thickest fruit; 
My heart is like a rainbow shell 

That paddles in a halcyon sea — 
My heart is gkidder than all these, 
Because my love is come to me. 

Raise me a dais of silk and down, 

Hang it with vair and purple dyes. 
Carve it in doves, and pomegranates, 

And peacocks with a hundred eyes; 
Work it gold and silver grapes, 

In leaves, and silver lleurs-de-Iys, 
Because the birthday of my life 

Is come, my love is come to me, 

— Rossetti 




XX 



5' s 



X 



sM 



i 




*1 






K 



\ 






T 



Loves Philosophy 

*HE fountains mingle with the river, 

And the rivers with the ocean, 
The winds of Heaven mix forever 
With a sweet emotion; 
Nothing in the world is single; 

All things by a law divine 
In one another's being mingle — 
Why not I with thine? 

See the mountains kiss high heaven. 

And the waves clasp one another; 
No sister flower would be forgiven 

If it disdained its brother: 
And the sunhght clasps the earth. 

And the moonbeams kiss the sea, 
What are all these kissings worth, 

If thou kiss not me? 

— Shelley 



m 



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VI 



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xxxx 



XfxJ^K 



XK 






/V. 




H, no! — not e'en when first we loved, 
Wert thou as dear as now thou art; 
Thy beauty then my senses moved, 
But now thy virtues bind my heart. 
What was but Passion's sigh before, 

Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow; 
And, though I then might love thee more, 
Trust me, I love thee better now. 

Although my heart in earher youth 

Might kindle with more wild desire, 
Beheve me, it has gain'd in truth 

Much more than it has lost in fire. 
The flame now warms my inmost core 

That then but sparkled o'er my brow. 
And, though I seem'd to love thee more, 

Yet, oh, I love thee better now. 

— Moore 



)/: 



102 





One Way of Love 




fv/l 



\ 



/ 



A 



LL June I bound the rose in sheaves. 
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves, 
And strew them where Pauhne may 
pass. 
She will not turn aside? Alas! 
Let them lie. Suppose they die? 
J The chance was they might take her eye. 

How many a month I strove to suit 
These stubborn fingers to the lute! 
To-day I venture all I know. 
She will not hear my music? So! 
Break the string— fold music's wing. 
Suppose Pauhne had bade me sing! 

My whole life long I learned to Jove. 

This hour my utmost art I prove 

And speak my passion.— Heaven or hell? 

She will not give me Heaven? 'Tis weh! 

Lose who may — I still can say, 

Those who win Heaven, blest are they. 

— Browning 

10 I 



X 



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\ 



X 



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bKXXX 



1{1 .1{N, thv honiil.N is lo im> 

1 ,iLc lliosc Nuwin l);nks ol \ ore, 

1 hnl ^onlly, o'er ;i piM"! iinu-d sc^a, 
\\\c \\c:\y\, \\i\\-\\on\ wniulcMor horc 
Vo his own lint i\ o shoic. 

On tlcspcialo sc\is l(>Il^ \\o\\[ to roam, 
rii\' lisacMiUh hail", th\ classic lace, 

Thv Naiacl airs ha\c hrou^h.l nic home 
To the i^loi"> that was Chcccc, 
Aiul thcgraiulcui" that was Rome. 

Lo! in von hnlhaiU w iiulow-nichc 
Mow statiu^-hkc> I see thee staiul, 

The a^ati- lamp w ilhm thv haiul! 
Ah, Psvche, Irom the regions which 
Arc lloly-Land! 

—Poe 














Why so Pale, Fond Lover '^ 

WIIV s(^ pale and wan, loncl l(ncr? 
Prithee, why so jjale? 
Will, uhe/i looking well ean't move 
her, 
Looking ill prevail? 
Prithee why so pale? 

Why so dull and nuite, young sinner? 

l-*rithee, why so mute? 
Will, w hen speaking well ean't win her, 

Saying iK)tliing do't? 

Prithee, why so mute? 

Quit, ({uit, for shame, this will not move: 

This eannot take her. 
11 ol hersell she will not love, 

Nothing ean make her: 
The devil take her! 

— Suckling 




y' 



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K 






To Lucasta. 
On Going to The Wars 



ELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind 
That from the nunnery 
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, 
To war and arms I lly. 

True, a new mistress now I chase. 

The hrst foe in the field; 
And with a stronger faith embrace 

A sword, a horse, a shield. 

Yet this inconstancy is such 

As you too shall adore; 
I could not love thee, Dear, so much, 

Loved I not Honour more. 




^Lovelace 



Love 



ALL thoughts, all passions, all dchghts. 
Whatever stirs this mortal frame, 
All are but ministers of Love, 
And feed his sacred llame. 

1 06 



^^r-% 1^ 



K 



fX 



J« 







The Lost Love 

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways 
Beside the springs of Dove; 
A maid whom there w^ere none to praise, 
And very few to love. 

A violet by a mossy stone 

Half hidden from the eye! 
— Fair as a star, when only one 

Is shining in the sky. 

She lived unknown, and few could know 

When Lucy ceased to be; 

But she is in her grave, and Oh! 

The difference to me! „, , 

— Wordsworth 

Loves Resume 

^HE Sun, the Rose, the Lily, the Dove,— 
I loved them all, in my early love. 
I love them no longer, but her alone,— 
The Pure, the Tender, the Only, the One. 
For she herself, my Queen of Lo\e, 
Is Rose, and Lily, and Sun, and Dove! 



T] 
; 













•Ife^ 



On^ Word Too Often Profaned 

ONE word is too often profaned 
For me to profane it, 
One feeling too falsely disdain'd 
For thee to disdain it. 
One hope is too like despair 
For prudence to smother, 
And Pity from thee more dear 
Than that from another. 

I can give not what men call love; 

But wilt thou accept not 
The worship the heart lifts above 

And the Heavens reject not: 
The desire of the moth for the star, 

Of the night for the morrow, 
The devotion to something afar 

From the sphere of our sorrow? 

—Shelley 




\\ 






x^ 



The Mi^ht of One Fair Face 

HE might of one fair face sublimes my 

love, 

For it hath weaned my heart from low 

desires; 
Nor death I heed, nor purgatorial fires. 
Thy beauty, antepast of joys alcove. 
Instructs me in the bhss that saints approve; 
For oh, how good, how beautiful, must be 
The God that made so good a thing as thee. 
So fair an image of the Heavenly Dove! 

Forgive me, if I cannot turn away 

From those sweet eyes that are my earthly 

Heaven ; 
For they arc guiding stars, benignly given 
To tempt my footsteps to the upward way; 
And if I dwell too fondly in thy sight, 
I live and love in God's pecuhar light. 

— Michael Angela 






%d>'^^/^^s^ 




■m^ 



Hinc Illx Lacrimx 

Y Lais with her pretty wiles, 
Subdues me to her will; 
[owever sweet may be her smiles, 
Her tears are sweeter still. 

The other day, she wept, and when 

She laid her head at this 
Close up against my shoulder, then 

I gave the girl a kiss. 

[ And as a trickhng streamlet drips 
Down from a fountainside, 
Her tears fell on our meeting lips: — 
I asked her why she cried, 

She said: "You wonder at my tears; 

What should I do but grieve? 
You fill me with too many fears; 

I know that men deceive." 

— Sedgwick 




no 




^ 



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4^. 



f^ 



OVE me or not, 

Love her I must or die; 
Leave me or not, 
Follow her needs must I ; 
Oh! that she might 

All my wish'd comforts give; 
How rich in her. 

How happy I should hve. 

Could I enchant, 

Or that it lawful were, 
Her would I charm 

Softly that none should hear! 
All my delight, 

All my desire should be 
Her to adore, 

Her to unite with me. 











Campion 







y 









'>^^ 







E 



'OVE is not a feeling to pass away, 

Like the balmy breath of a Summer-day; 
It is not — it cannot be — hiid aside; 

It is not a thing to forget or hide. 

It chngs to the heart, ah, woe is me! 

As the ivy chngs to the old oak-tree. 

Love is not a passion of earthly mould. 
As a thirst for honour, or fame, or gold; 
For when all these wishes have died away. 
The deep strong love of a brighter day, 
Though nourished in secret, consumes the 

more. 
As the slow rust eats to the iron's core. 

—Dickens 





x: 



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IT was a lover and his lass 
With a hey and a ho, and a hey nonino! 
That o'er the green corn-field did pass 
In the Spring time, the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing hey ding a ding: 
Sweet lovers love the Spring. 

Between the acres of the rye 
These pretty country folks would lie: 
This carol they began that hour, 
How that life was but a flower: 

And therefore take the present time 

With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino! 
For love is crowned with the prime 
In Spring time, the only pretty ring time. 
When birds do sing hey ding a ding: 
Sweet lovers love the Spring. 

— Shakespeare 





/v 




C 



mob 



Love Is a Sickness 

OVE is a sickness full of woes, 
All remedies refusing; 
A plant that most with cutting grows, 
Most barren with best using. 
Why so? 
More we enjoy it, more it dies. 
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries. 
Heigh-ho! 

Love is a torment of tlie mind, 

A tempest everlasting; 
And Jove hath made it of a kind 

Not well, nor full nor fasting. 
Why so? 
More we enjoy it, more it dies, 

If not enjoyed, it sighing cries. 

Heigh-ho! 

— Daniel 




>} 



r^fc 





Come hither, the dances arc done, 
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls. 

Queen lily and rose in one; 
Shine out, httlc head, sunning over with curls, 

To the llowers, and be their sun. 

She is coming, my own, my sweet; 

Were it ever so airy a tread, 
My heart would hear her and beat, 

Were it earth in an earthly bed; 
My dust would hear her and beat. 

Had I Iain for a century dead; 
Would start and tremble under her feet, 

And blossom in purple and red. 

■ — Tennyson 





On a Girdle 

'HAT which her slender waist confined 

Shall now my joyful temples bind: 
No monarch but would give his crown 
His arms misht do what this has done. 



T] 
1 




It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, 
The pale which held that lovely dear: 
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love 
Did all within this circle move. 

A narrow compass! and yet there 

Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair: 

Give me but what this ribband bound. 

Take all the rest the sun goes round. 

-Waller 

Sweetheart 

OT from the whole wide world I chose 
thee, 
Sweetheart, light of the land and the 



sea 



The wide, wide world could not inclose thee, 
For thou art the whole wide world to me. 

— Gilder 
ii6 






">'! 




A Song 



s 



TAR that bringcst home the bee, 
And sett'st the weary labourer free! 
If any star shed peace, 'tis thou, 
That send'st it from above, 
Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow, 
Are sweet as hers we love. 

Come to the luxuriant skies. 
Whilst the landscape's odours rise. 
Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard. 

And songs, when toil is done. 
From cottages whose smoke unstirred 

Curls yellow in the sun. 

Star of love's soft interviews. 
Parted lovers on thee muse; 
Their remembrancer in Heaven 

Of thrilhng vows thou art, 
Too dehcious to be riven 

By absence from the heart. 

— Campbell 





117 



V 



Xx 



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Forever and a Day 



LITTLE know or care 

If the l)lackl)ird on the bough 
Is filling all tlie air 
\\ ith his soft crescendo now; 
For she is gone away, 

And when she went she took 
The Springtime in her look, 

The peachblow on her cheek, 
The laughter from the brook. 
The blue from out the iMa}', 

And what she calls a week, 
Is forever and a day. 

It's httle that I mind 

How the blossoms pink or white 
At ev'ry touch of wind 

Fall a-trembhng with dehght; 
For in the lealy lane 

Beneath the garden boughs. 

And thro' the silent house, 
One thing alone I seek; 

ii8 




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Until she comes again 
The May is not the May, 

And what she calls a week, 
Is forever and a day. 






y 




V 




— Aldrich 



Maiden with the Lips like 
Rosebuds 




M 



AIDEN with the hps hke rosebuds, 

And with eyes both sweet and clear, l/xf)^^ 
O my darhng Httle maiden, j|^ ^ 



In my heart I hold thee here! 

Long I find the Winter evening, 
And I might be with thee there. 

By thee sitting, with thee chatting 
In thy room where comes no care. 

To my hps I might be pressing 

Rapturously thy small white hand. 

With my tears that hand bedewing 
Tenderly, that small white hand. 



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-Heine 



119 



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The Lark Noiv Leaves His 
Wat'rv Nest 






X 



T 



'HE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest, 

And climbing, shakes his dewy wingS: 
He takes your window for the East, 
And to implore your light he sings; 
Awake, awake, the morn will never rise 
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. 



X 



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The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, 
The ploughman from the sun his season 

S/'X/Nv^igxSJ But still the lover wonders what they are, 

' Who k^ok for day before his mistress wakes. 

Awake, awake, break through your veils of 

Then draw your curtains, and begin the ^ ■'^ 

dawn. 

— Davenant 







CATCH her and hold her if you can — 
See, she defies you with her fan, 
Shuts, opens, and then holds it spread 
In threatening guise above your head. 
Ah! why did you not start before 
She reacht the porch and closed the door? 
Simpleton! will you never learn 
That girls and time will not return; 
Of each you should have made the most, 
Once gone, they are forever lost. 
In vain your knuckles knock your brow, 
In vain will you remember how 
Like a shm brook the gamesome maid 
Sparkled, and ran into the shade. Landor 

Bonny Leslie 

To see her is to love her. 
And love but her forever; 
For Nature made her what she is. 
And never made another! 











\Y^/ic'n Other Friends 



W 



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HEN other IricMuls arc round thcc, 

And other hearts are tliine, 
When other bays ha\eero\\n'd thee 
More fresh and green than mine, 
Then think Iiow sad and lonely 

This doting heart will be, 
\Vhich, while it throbs, throbs only, 
Beloved one, for thee! 

Yet do not think I dcnibt thee, 

I know thy truth remains; 
I would not live without thee, 

For all the world contains. 
Thou art the star that guides me 

Along life's changing sea; 
And whate'er fate betides me, 

This heart still turns t(^ thee. 

— Morns 







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Song 



I 



NE'ER could any lustre see 

In eyes that would not look on me; 

I ne'er saw nectar on a lip, 

But where my own did hope to sip. 

Has the maid who seeks my heart 

Cheeks of rose, untouched by art? 

I will own the colour true. 

When yielding blushes aid their hue. 



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\ 



Is her hand so soft and pure? 
I must press it, to be sure; 
Nor can I be certain then. 
Till it, grateful, press again. 
Must I, with attentive eye, 
Watch her heaving bosom sigh? 
I will do so when I sec 
That heaving bosom sigh for me 




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— Sheridan 





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IntheYearThafsComeandGone 



I 



N the year that's come and gone, Love, his 
flying feather, 
Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade 
us walk together. 
In the year that's coming on, though many a 

troth be broken. 
We at least will not forget aught that Love 
hath spoken. 

In the year that's come and gone, dear, we 

wove a tether 
All of gracious words and thoughts, binding 

two together. 
In the year that's coming on, with its wealth of 

roses. 
We shaH weave it stronger yet, ere the circle 

closes. 

In the year that's come and gone, in the golden 

weather. 
Sweet, my sweet, we swore to keep the watch ^ 

of hfe together. 

124 





vf V\f "^JC^f 4^"^ ^^ 











J*N^ In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and 

sorrow, 

y^y v§ We shall light our lamp, and wait hfe's mys- 

b>i^ terious morrow. 

—Henley 



To Cell 



a 



[xkxx) 



H 



E that loves a rosy cheek, 
Or a coral lip admires. 
Or from star-like eyes doth seek 
Fuel to maintain his fires, — 
,^ As old Time makes these decay, 
y\ So his flames must waste away. 

■^^ But a smooth and steadfast mind. 

Gentle thoughts, and calm desires, 
Hearts with equal love combined, 

Kindle never-dying fires : 
Where these are not, I despise 
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. 



Carew 







M 



XXM 



Maid of Athens 

AID of AthcMis, ere we part, 
Give, oh, give me back my heart! 
Or, since that has left my breast, 

Keep it now, and take the rest! 

Hear my vow before I go. 

My dearest life, I love thee. 

By those tresses unconfmed. 
Wooed by each Aegean wind; 
By those lids whose jetty fringe 
Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge; 
By those wild eyes like the roe. 
My dearest life, I love thee. 

By that lip I long to taste; 
By that zone-encircled waist; 
By all the token-flowers that tell 
What words can never speak so well; 
By love's alternate joy and woe. 
My dearest life, I love thee. 



126 






>>s\XAik^A>; 



XXX 
XXX 







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XXk; 









xx^ooc 








Maid of Athens! I am gone; 
Think of me, sweet! when alone. 
Though I fly to Istambol, 
Athens holds my heart and soul; 
Can I cease to love thee? No! 
My dearest life, I love thee. 



-Byron 



The Wanderer 



N/ 



X 






r 



OVE comes back to his vacant dwelling — 
The old, old Love we knew of yore! 
We see him stand by the open door, 
With his great eyes sad and his bosom swelhng 

He makes as though in our arms repelling, 
He fain would he as he lay before; — 

Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — 
The old, old Love we knew of yore! 

Ah, who shall help us from overteHing 
That sweet forgotten, forbidden lore! 
E'en as we doubt in our hearts once more. 
With a rush of tears to our eyehds welling. 
Love comes back to his vacant dwelling. 

—Dobson 






'^^ 5< 



Young Love 




IFE hath its memories lovely, 

That over the heart are blown, 
As over the face of the Autumn 
The hght of the Summer flown; 
Pasing out of the mist so chifling. 

That oft life's sky enshrouds, 
Like a new moon sweetly filling 
Among the twihght clouds. 

And among them comes, how often. 

Young love's unresting wraith, 
To hft lost hope out of ruins 

To the gladness of perfect faith; 
Drifting out of the past as lightly 

As winds of the May-time flow: 
And Hfting the shadows brightly. 

As the dafl'odil hfts the snow. 







\l 




THE touches of her hands are hke the fall 
Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of 
down 
The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall; 
The ilossy fondhngs of the thistle-wisp 

Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown 
The bhghting frost hath turned from green to 
crisp. 

Soft as the falhng of the dusk at night, 
The touches of her hands, and the dehght — 

The touches of her hands! 
The touches of her hands are hke the dew 
That falls so softly down no one e'er knew 
The touch thereof save lovers hke to one 
Astray in hghts where ranged Endymion. 

O rarely soft, the touches of her hands, 
As drowsy zephyrs in enchanted lands; 
Or pulse of dying fay; or fairy sighs; 
Or — in between the midnight and the dawn. 
When long unrest and tears and fears are gone — 
Sleep, smoothing down the hds of weary eyes. 

129 —Riley 




xV^I^S? 









SI w. 



^ 



A Kiss Within the Cup 



T 



'HERE is no gladness in the glass 
Unless thou pour for me; 
But taste it first before it pass, 
And I will drink with thee; 
For if those lovely Hps of thine 

Have breathed upon the brim, 
I swear that I will drain the wine, 
Although it reach the rim. 

Oh, who could bear to say thee nay, 

When thou hast kissed the cup? 
Or who would turn the other way. 

When thou hast filled it up? 
For oh, the cup has kept the kiss 

And carries me a share. 
To show me all the w^asted bliss 

Thy lips have lavished there! 

— Sedgwick 





130 










*ip— 









If 



There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind 

T 



'HERE is a Lady sweet and kind, 
Was never face so pleased my mind; 
I did but see her passing by, 
And yet I love her till I die. 



Her gesture, motion, and her smiles. 
Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles. 
Beguiles my heart, I know not why, 
And yet I love her till I die. 

Cupid is winged and doth range 
Her country so my love doth change: 
But change the earth, or change the sky. 
Yet will I love her till I die. 



Ford 



Go, Lovely Rose 



G 



O, lovely rose! 

Tell her, that wastes her time and 
me. 

That now she knows. 
When I reseriible her to thee. 

How sweet and fair she seems to be. 

— Waller 



^ 










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I 



/ Do Not Love Thee 

DO not love thee! — no! I do not Icve thee! 
And yet when thou art absent I am sad; 
And envy even the bright blue sky above 
thee, 
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad. 



I do not love thee! — yet, I know not why, 
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to 
me: 

And often in my solitude I sigh 

That those I do love are not more like thee! 

I do not love thee! — yet, when thou art gone, 
I hate the sound (though those who speak 
be dear) 
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone 
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear. 

— Norton 






^^ Lines 

E" other bards of angels sing, — 
Bright suns without a spot; 
But thou art no such perfect thing; 
, Rejoice that thou art not! 

Heed not though none should call thee fair; 

So, Mary, let it be. 
If naught in loveliness compare 

With what thou art to me. 

True beauty dwells in deep retreats. 

Whose veil is unremoved 
Till heart with heart in concord beats. 

And the lover is beloved. 

— Wordsworth 

Somewhere or Other 

OMEWHERE or other there must surely ^^ 
be 
The face not seen, the voice not heard, 
The heart not yet — never yet — oh me! 
Made answer to my word. 





133 



-Rossetti 



^ 



3'''^xm»^i<m> 








A Woman s Answer 

LOVE, too, to be loved; all loving praise 
Seems like a crown upon my life, to 
make 
It better worth the giving, and to raise 

Still nearer to your own the heart you take. 

I love all good and noble souls; I heard 
One speak of you but lately, and for days, 

Only to think of it, my soul was stirred 

In tender memory of such generous praise. 

I love all those who love you, all who owe 
Comfort to you; and I can find regret 

Even for those poorer hearts w^ho once could 
know, 
And once could love you, and can now forget. 

Will you be jealous? Did you guess before 
I loved so many things? Still you the best; 

Dearest, remember that I love you more. 
Oh, more a thousand times, than all the rest! 

— Procter 





x:>^u^y^^. 



^.*J^ 









i; 



W^/iy A^fe of Others:^ 



w 



HY ask of others what they cannot 
say, — 

Others, who for thy good have 
little care? 
Come close, dear friend, and learn a better way; 
Look in my eyes, and read my story there! 

Trust not thine own proud wit; 'tis idle dream- 
ing! 
The common gossip of the street forbear; 
Nor even trust my acts or surface-seeming: 
Ask only of my eyes; my truth is there. 

My lips refuse an answer to thy boldness; 
Or with false, cruel words deny thy prayer, — 
Beheve them not, I hate them fortheircoldness! 
Look in my eyes; my love is written there. 

— Rueckert 




^ 







y^xx 






THERE is no life on earth but being in 
love! 
There are no studies, no dehghts, no 
business, 
No intercourse, or trade of sense, or soul, 
But what is love! I was the laziest creature. 
The most unprofitable sign of nothing, 
The veriest drone, and slept away my life 
Beyond the dormouse, till I was in love! 
And now I can outwake the nightingale, 
Outwatch an usurer, and outwalk him too! 
Stalk likea ghost that haunted 'bout a treasure. 
And all that fancied treasure, it is love! 

— Jonson 



y 



Writing 



w 



HEN words we want. Love teacheth 

to indite; 
And what we bhish to speak, she 
bids us write. 

— Herrick 
136 



/i 



N 







y 



w 









:Ni 




y 



'\ 



o 



The Unchangeable 



NEVER say that I was false of heart, 
Though absence seem'd my ilame 
to qualify: 
As easy might I from myself depart 

As for my soul, which in thy breast doth lie; 
That is my home of love; if I have ranged, 

Like him that travels, I return again, 
Just to the time, not with the time unchanged. 

So that myself bring water for my stain. 
Never believe, though in my nature reign'd 

All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood, 
That it could so preposterously be stain'd 

To leave for nothing all thy sum of good: 
For nothing this wide universe I call. 
Save thou, my rose: in it thou art my all. 

— Shakespeare 



C 



OVE strikes one hour — love! those never 
loved. 
Who dream that they loved once. 

— Mrs. Browning 

137 




V 






f~^^^ 





w 




^^^2. 




A 



To Love 

HY should I blush to own I love? 
'Tis love that rules tlie reahns 
above. 
Why should I bhish to say to all 
That virtue holds my heart in thrall? 




Why should I seek the thickest shade, 
Lest Love's dear secret be betrayed? 
^ Why the stern brow deceitful move, 
When I am languishing with love? 

Is it weakness thus to dwell 
On passion that I dare not tell? 
Such weakness I would ever prove. 
'Tis painful, though 'tis sweet, to love. 



White 



^T 



A Warning 





RUST no prayer nor promise; 

Words are grains of sand: 
To keep your heart unbroken, 

Hold it in your hand. f ^ '^^V^ 

138 —Procter ^ gH 

_^ f9 



k 







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r 



/ May Not Love Thee 



\ 



1 



m 





MAY not love thee." "May not!" but I 
do: 
This is my title to the crown of love, — 
A title which each heart-beat doth renew, — 

A title ancient as the stars above. 
"I may not love thee." "May not!" but I 
must: 
When Nature's mightiest forces are at play 
The ship, o'ermastered by the whirhng gust. 
Forgets its course and wanders far astray. 
"I may not love thee." "May not!" but I will: 
My soul loves thine and glories in love's 
name, — 
Itself its arbiter of good and ill,— 

Itself the well-spring of its ardent flame. 
I may not love thee, my Beloved ! but still 
Love thee I do, I must, I ever will. 

— Holmes 








\ 



^^^^^^ 








'1* 




/ Love My Love with a Kiss 

OH, I love my love in the lovely Summer 
time 
With a kiss — or two — or three; 
Like a rose in June in the full of the moon, 

She is lovely, my love — is she! 
So I hold her close, and sing her a rhyme 

With a kiss— or two — or three; 
Like the honey of the bee or the blossom of the 
thyme 
Is my love, so dear to me. 

Oh, I love my love in the happy Autumn days ^ 

With a kiss^ — or four — or five; 
She is Hke the trees in the swinging of the 
breeze 

When the last warm breezes drive. 
So I clasp her close, and sing her praise 

With a kiss — or four — or five; 
Like the aster's bhie in October's rays 

She's the happiest thing ahve! 






'^1^^^95<R5<5$8^ 



x>< 




^^^^ A/\/\Y\ AAA K\/\/\/\A 



/ 




\ Oh, I love my love in the cheery Winter time 

With a kiss — or six — or seven; 
Like the reddening snow in the sunset glow 

Is her cherry cheek at even! 
It is all for her — the Christmas chime 

And a kiss — or six — or seven; 
Like the stars of the sky on the sparkhng rime 

Is my love — whose love is Heaven! 

Oh, I love my love in the merry Spring morn 

With a kiss — or eight — or nine; 
Like the clematis abloom or the violet's per = 
fume 
Is my love in the May sunshine. 
So I hold her dear when April's born 

With a kiss — or eight — or nine; 
Like the hhes in the brook or the flower of the 
thorn 
Is the love I know is mine! 

— Holden 



m^ 




m 



/ 



/ 










*1 
•1 







s 



She Walks in Beauty 

HE walks in beauty, like the night 
Of cloudless climes and starry skies, 
And all that's best of dark and bright 
Meet in her aspect, and her eyes. 
Thus mellowed to that tender light 
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. 

One shade the more, one ray the less. 
Had half-impaired the nameless grace 

Which waves in every raven tress 
Or softly lightens o'er her face. 

Where thoughts serenely sweet express 
How pure, how dear, their dwclling-place. 

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow 

So soft, so cahii, yet eloquent. 
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 

But tell of days in goodness spent, — 
A mind at peace with all below, 

A heart whose love is innocent. 

^Byron 






„ * 



i 









^ 



^^^^-^ X X X >3 



^' 



Night Thoughts 

IS sweeter than all else below, 

The dayhght and its duties done, 
To fold the arms for rest, and so 
Relinquish all regards but one; 
To see her features in the dark; 

To he and meditate once more, 
Some grace he did not fully mark. 

Some tone he had not heard before, 
Then from beneath his head to take 

Her notes, her picture, and her glove. 
Put there for joy when he shall wake, 

And press them to the heart of love; 
And then to whisper "Wife," and pray 

To live so long as not to miss 
That unimaginable day 

Which farther seems the nearer 'tis; 
And still from joy's unfathomed well 

To drink, in sleep, while, on her brow 
Of innocence ineffable. 

The laughing bridal roses blow. 

— Palmare 
143 



>( 



./ 



y 



\ > 






m^m6^^m. ^Y 







Love is Lifes End 



TOV 

L 



\ 



OVE is life's end; an end but never ending; 

All joys, all sweets, all happiness 

awarding; 

I Love is life's wealth (ne'er spent but ever 

spending), 

Love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding: 

Then from thy wretched heart fond care remove. 

Ah! shouldst thou live but once love's sweets 

to prove. 
Thou wilt not love to hve, unless thou hve to 
love. 

—Spenser 



tt/, 



■^ 



^^ 






Love 





AY, do not pity me, that not a star 
Hangs in the bosom of my stormy 
sky 
Nor winglet of white feathers flutters by, 
Nor like a soft dream swims or near or far 
The golden atmosphere of poesy. 

Down in the heart from frivolous joys aloof 
Burn the pale fires, whose keen intensity 
Flames through the weh of hfe's discolored 
woof. 
And lights the white walls of eternity. 

Alas! the ravishment of Love's sweet trust 
May charm my life no more to passion's glow: 

Nor the light kisses of a lip of dust 
Crimson my forehead with the seal of woe; 
Well, were it otherwise, 'tis better so! 

— Cary 



145 




^^ 








Love Me Little, Love Me Long 

E'E me little, love me long! 
Is the burden of my song; 
Love that is too hot and strong 
Burneth soon to waste. 
Still I would not have thee cold, 
Not too backward, not too bold; 
Love that lasteth till 'tis old 

Fadeth not in haste. 
Love me little, love me long! 
Is the burden of my song. 

If thou lovest me too much 
'Twill not prove as true a touch ; 
Love me little more than such,-- 

For I fear the end. 
I'm with httle well content. 
And a little from thee sent 
Is enough with true intent 

To be steadfast, friend. 

Say thou lovest me, while thou live 
I to thee my love will give, 

146 



1 







i 




Never dreaming to deceive 

While that Hfe endures; 
Nay, and after death in sooth, 
I to thee will keep my truth, 
As now when in my May of youth; 
This my love assures. 

Constant love is moderate ever, 
And it will through hfe persever; 
Give me that with true endeavour, - 

I will it restore. 
A suit of durance let it be, 
For all weathers, — that for me, — 
For the hind or for the sea, 

Lasting ever more. 

Winter's cold or Summer's heat. 
Autumn's tempests on it beat; 
It can never know defeat. 
Never can rebel. 
Such the love that I would gain. 
Such the love, I tell thee plain. 
Thou must give, or woo in vain 
So to thee — Farewell. 



W^i 



^y\. 












The First Meeting 



I WISH I could remember that first day, 
First hour, first moment of your meeting 
me, 
If bright or dim the season, it might be 
Summer or Winter for aught I can say; 
So unrecorded did it slip away, 

So blind was I to see and to foresee. 
So dull to mark the budding of my tree 
That w^ould not blossom yet for many a May. 

If only I could recollect it — such 
A day of days! I let it come and go 
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; 
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much; 
If only now I could recall that touch, 

First touch of hand in hand — did one but 
know! 

— Rossetti 






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Mans Love 

AN'S love is of man's life a thing apart, 
'Tis woman's whole existence; man 
may range 
The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the 
mart. 
Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange |/^|J 
Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart. 
And few there are whom these cannot 
estrange; 
Men have all these resources, we but one: 
To love again, and be again undone. 

— Byron 

Absence 




zx 



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HEN I think on the happy days 

I spent wi' you, my dearie. 
And now what lands between us he, 
How can I be but eerie! 

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, 

As ye were wae and weary.' 

It was na sae ye glinted by 

When I was wi' my dearie. 
149 






> 



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/^ 





The Time Tve Lost in Wooing 

THE time I've lost in wooing, 
In watching and pursuing 
The light that lies 
In woman's eyes, 
Has been my heart's undoing. 

Though Wisdom oft has sought me, 
I scorned the lore she brought me, 

My only books 

Were woman's looks, 
And folly's all they've taught me. 



-Moore 



My Bride 



M 



>6&^ 



Y bride, my wife, my life. Oh, we will 
walk this world. 
Yoked in all exercise of noble end 
And so thro' those dark gates across the wild 
That no man know^s. Indeed I love thee: come 
Yield thyself up: my hopes and thine are one: 
Accomphsh thou my manhood and thyself; 
Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me. 

1^0 — Tennyson 



^^^^^M4^?^ 



„ i 



XXX 










A 



H, sweet! thou little knowest how 

I wake, and passionate watches keep; 
And yet while I address thee now, 
Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep. 
'Tis sweet enough to make me weep 

That tender thought of love and thee, 
That while the world is hushed so deep 
Thy soul's perhaps awake to me. 

Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep, 

With golden visions for thy dower. 
While I this midnight vigil keep, 

And bless thee in thy silent bower; 
To me 'tis sweeter than the power 

Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurled, 
That I alone, at this still hour. 

In patient love outwatch the world. 

^Hood 
















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When Stars are in the Quiet Skies 



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HEN stars are in the quiet skies, 

Then most I pine for thee; 
Bend on me then thy tender eyes, 
As stars look on the sea! 
For thoughts, like waves that ghde by night. 

Are stillest when they shine; 
Mine earthly love lies hushed in light 
Beneath the Heaven of thine. 

There is an hour when angels keep 

Famihar watch o'er men. 
When coarser souls are wrapped in sleep : 

Sweet spirit, meet me then! 
There is an hour when holy dreams 

Through slumber fairest glide. 
And in that mystic hour it seems 

Thou shouldst be by my side. 





^M>i 




ri , 





My thoughts of thee too sacred are 
For daylight's common beam: 

I can but know thee as my star, 
My angel, and my dream! 

When stars are in the quiet skies. 
Then most I pine for thee; 

Bend on me then thy tender eyes. 



As stars look on the sea. 



— Owen Meredith 



M 



To Emelia Viviani 

ADONNA, wherefore hast thou sent to 
me 



Sweet basil and mignonette? 
Embleming love and health, which never yet 
In the same wreath might be. 

ALis, and they are wet! 
Is it with thy kisses or thy tears? 

For never rain or dew 

Such fragrance drew 
From pLant or flower — the very doubt endears 

My sadness ever new. 
The sighs I breathe, the tears I shed for thee. 

1^3 — Shelley 




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Hark, Hark, the Lark 

ARK! Hark! The lark at Heaven's gate 
sings, 
And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 

On chahc'd flowers that lies; 
And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their 




golden eyes; 

With everything that pretty is — My lady 
sweet, arise: 
Arise, arise. — Shakespeare 

Gathered Roses 

NLY a bee made prisoner. 
Caught in a gathered rose! 
Was he not 'ware a flower so fair 
For the first gatherer grows? 
Only a heart made prisoner, 

Going out free no more! 
Was he not 'ware a face so fair 
Must have been gathered before? 

■ — Bourdillon 
154 






/ 



o^66^ 





OSE kissed me to-day, 

Will she kiss me to-morrow? 
Let it be as it may, 
Rose kissed me to-day. 
But the pleasure gives way 

To a savour of sorrows 
Rose kissed me to-day — 

Will she kiss me to-morrow? 

—Dobson 

Rose At It A^^ain 

OSE kissed me today, 

Who will kiss her to-morrow? 
'That's always the way, — • 
When she kisses to-day, 
I ask with dismay, 

Not unmixed with sorrow: 
Rose kissed me to-day. 

Who will kiss her to-morrow? 

— FoUansbee 







Thou Lovest Me Not 

THOU lovest me not, thou lovest me not! 
'Tis scarcely worth a sigh: 
Let me look in thy face, and no king in 
his place 
Is a gladder man than I. 

Thou hatest me well, thou hatest me well — 

Thy httle red mouth has told: 
Let it reach me a kiss, and, however it is, 

My child, I am well consoled. 

— Heine 

To Electra 

I DARE not ask a kiss, 
I dare not beg a smile. 
Lest having that, or this, 
I might grow proud the while. 
No, no, the utmost share 

Of my desire shall be 
Only to kiss that air 
That lately kissed thee. 







^ 



c 



OVE is not made of kisses, or of sighs, 
Of clinging hands, or of the sorceries 
And subtle witchcrafts of alluring eyes. 



<i 



Love is not made of broken whispers; no! 
Nor of the blushing cheek, whose answering 

glow 
Tells that the ear has heard the accents low. 

Love is not made of tears, nor yet of smiles. 
Of quivering lips, or of enticing whiles: 
Love is not tempted; he himself beguiles. 

This is Love's Language, but this is not Love. 

If we know aught of Love, how shall we dare 
To say that this is Love, when well aware 
That these are common things, and Love is 
rare? 





157 







>^^ 







Her Beautiful Eyes 



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H ER beautiful eyes ! they are as blue 

as the dew 
On the violet's bloom when the morn- 
ing is new, 
r And the light of their love is the gleam of the sun 
O'er the meadows of Spring where the quick 

shadows run: 
As the morn shifts the mists and the clouds 

from the skies — 
So I stand in the dawn of her beautiful eyes. 

And her beautiful eyes are as mid-day to me, 
When the hly-bell bends with the weight of 

the bee. 
And the throat of the thrush is a-pulse in the 

heat, 
And the senses are drugged with the subtle and 

sweet vj^ ^^ 

And dehrious breaths of the air's lullabies— ^^fc^^l^Sfi 
So I swoon in the noon of her beautiful eyes. rC'^^HB^Ir^ 



158 



C^J>Q^ 










^^^^ XXX 




O her beautiful eyes! they have smitten mine 

own 
As a glory glanced down from the glare of the 

Throne; 
And I reel, and I falter and fall, as afar 
Fell the shepherds that looked on the mystical 

Star, 
And yet dazed in the tidings that bade them 

arise- - 
So I grope through the night of her beautiful ^ 

eyes. 

— Riley 

My Jean! 




T 



HOUGH cruel fate should bid us part, 
Far as the pole and hne, 
yw^XT yiSi ^^^ dear idea round my heart 

^ i^ "^^ Shall tenderly entwine. 

/ Though mountains rise, and deserts howl, 
^ And oceans roar between; 
^tx Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, 
I still would love my Jean. 



^ 



Burns 



159 



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KNxy 





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Madrigal 



C^E not mc for comely grace, 
For my pleasing eye or face, 
Nor for any outward part: 
No, nor for a constant heart! 
For these may fail or turn to ill : 

So thou and I shall sever. 
Keep, therefore, a true woman's eye, 
And love me still, but know not why! 
So hast thou the reason still 
To dote upon me ever. 

A Match 

IF I were what the words are. 
And love were like the tune, 
With double sound and single 
DeHght our hps would mingle, 
With kisses glad as birds are 

That get sweet rain at noon ; 
If I were what the words are 
And love were like the tune. 



\S 




^ 





OH, Beauty, passing Beauty! sweetest 
Sweet! 
How canst thou let me waste my 
youth in sighs? 
I only ask to sit beside thy feet. 

Thou knowest I dare not look into thine 



Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold 
My arms about thee — scarcely dare to speak. 

And nothing seems to me so wild and bold, 
As w^ith one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek. 

Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control 
Within the thrilhng brain could keep afloat 

The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke, 

The bare word kiss hath made my inner soul 

To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note 
Hath melted in the silence that it broke. 

^Tennysori 







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FTEN I have heard it said 
That her hps are riibj^-red. 
Little heed I what they say, 
I have seen as red as they. 
Ere she smiled on other men, 
Real rubies were they then. 

When she kist me once in play, 
Rubies were less bright than they, 
And less bright were those which shone 
In the palace of the Sun. 

Will they be as bright again? 
Not if kist by other men. 

— Landor 

A Conceit 

You touched my heart; it gave a thrill 
Just like a rose 
That opens at a lady's will; 
Its bloom is always yours, until 
You bid it close. 

162 — Collins 










vvSd 




Sonnet from the Portuguese 

NDEED, this very love which is my boast, 
And which, when rising up from breast 
to brow. 

Doth crown me with a ruby large enow 

To draw men's eyes, and prove the inner cost, — 

This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost, 

I should not love withal, unless that thou 

Hadst set me an example, shown me how. 

When first thine earnest eyes with mine were 

crossed. 
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak 

Of love even, as a good thing of my own. 
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and 
weak. 
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,— 
And that I love, (O soul, I must be meek!) 
Is by thee only, whom I love alone. 

^Mrs. Broivnins 










Lines to an Indian Air 



1 ARISE from dreams of thee 
In the first sweet sleep of night, 
When the winds are breathing low 
And the stars are shining bright. 
I arise from dreams of thee, 

And a spirit in my feet 
Hath led me — who knows how? — 
To thy chamber-window, sweet! 

The wandering airs they faint 

On the dark, the silent stream; 
And the champak odors pine 

Like sweet thoughts in a dream; 
The nightingale's complaint 

It dies upon her heart. 
As I must die on thine, 

O beloved as thou art! 







p 



O lift me from the grass! 

I die, I faint, I fail! 
Let thy love in kisses rain 

On my hps and eyelids pale. 
My cheek is cold and white, aks! 

My heart beats loud and fast; 
O press it to thine own again, 

Where it will break at last! 



Shelley 



Proposal 



THE violet loves a sunny bank, 
The cowshp loves the lea, 
The scarlet creeper loves the elm, 
But I love— thee. 
The sunshine kisses mount and vale. 

The stars, they kiss the sea, 
The west winds kiss the clover bloom, 

But I kiss^thee. 
The oriole weds his mottled mate. 

The hly's bride o' the bee; 
Heaven's marriage ring is round the earth 
Shall I wed thee? 

165 — Taylor 






i^^^ 



Destiny 




s 



OMEWHERE there waiteth in this ^^ orld 
of ours 
For one lone soul another lonely soul, 
Each choosing each through all the weary hours 

And meeting strangely at one sudden goal. 
Then blend they, hke green leaves with golden 
flowers, 
Into one beautiful and perfect whole; 
And hfe's long night is ended, and the way 
Lies open onward to eternal day. a i i 




A Ch 



a in 



C^E shall be purihed by Pain, 
And Pain be soothed by Love again; 
So let us now take heart and go 
Cheerfully on, through joy and woe; 
No change the Summer sun can bring. 
Or the inconstant skies of Spring, 
Or the bleak \\ inter's stormy weather, 
For we shall meet them. Love, together! 

1 66 — Procter 









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Gather Ye Rosebuds 




GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, 
Old time is still a-flying: 
And this same flower that smiles to- 
day 
To-morrow will be dying. 

The glorious lamp of Heaven, the sun, 

The higher he's a-getting, 
The sooner will his race be run. 

And nearer he's to setting. 

That age is best which is the first, 
When youth and blood are warmer; 

But being spent, the worse, and worst 
Times still succeed the former. 

Then be not coy, but use your time. 

And while ye may go marry: 
For having lost but once your prime 

You may for ever tarry. 

— Herrick 



167 



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Love 

TRUE Love is but a humble, low-born 
thing, 
And hath its food served up in earthen 
ware; 
It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand, 
Through the every-dayness of this work-day 

world, 
Baring its tender feet to every roughness. 
Yet letting not one heart-beat go astray 
From Beauty's law of plainness and content; 
A simple, fireside thing, whose quiet smile 
Can warm earth's poorest hovel to a home; 
Which, when our Autumn cometh, as it must. 
And life in the chill wind shivers bare and 

leafless, 
Shall still be blest with Indian summer youth 
In bleak November, and, with thankful heart. 
Smile on its ample stores of garnered fruit. 
As full of sunshine to our aged eyes 
As when it nursed the blossoms of our Spring. 

— Lowell 



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To Dianeme 

WEET, be not proud of those two eyes 
Which star-hke sparkle in their skies; 
Nor be you proud, that you can see 
All hearts your captives; yours yet free: 
Be you not proud of that rich hair 
Which wantons with the lovesick air; 
When as that ruby which you w-ear, 
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, 
Will last to be a precious stone 
When all your world of beauty's gone. 

— Herrick 

Love Thee Dearest? Love Thee? 

C^E thee, dearest? love thee? 
Yes, by yonder star I swear. 
Which thro' tears above thee 
Shines so sadly fair; 
Tho' often dim. 
With tears, like him, 
Like him my truth will shine, 

And love thee, dearest, love thee! 

169 — Moore 






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W^/// T/iou Tafc^ Me for Thy Slave? 




^^^^HSW A A /ILT thou take me for 
' v>rSP5 VV With my folly anc 
mmK^rKlK ^ ^ Wllt thou take me \ 



thy slave, 
d my love? 



for the bonds- Ifeff ' 



man of tliy pride, 
Thou who dearer art to me than all 

the world beside? 
For I love thee as no other man can love. 

Wilt thou take me to thy soul. 

For the truth which thou shalt prove? 

Wilt thou clothe me with tlie riches 

of thy care, 
Thou who dearer art to me than gold 



m. 




and 



jewels rare 



.7 



For I love thee as no other man can 
love. 

Wilt thou take me for thy king. 
While tlie sun and stars shall move? 



170 









XXX 
>9y< 



^>. A<1 




Wilt thou pay me back the homage I 

have given ; 
Oh thou dearer unto me than sun and 

stars and heaven? 
For I love thee as no other man can 

love. 

—Blunt 



O 



To Ellen 

H ! might I kiss those eyes of fire, 
A million scarce would quench desire: 

Still would I steep my lips in bliss, 
And dwell an age on every kiss: 
Nor then my soul should sated be; 
Still would I kiss and chng to thee: 
Naught should my kiss from thine dissever; 
Still would we kiss, and kiss forever; 
E'en though the numbers did exceed 
The yellow harvest's countless seed. 
To part would be a vain endeavour: 
Could I desist?— ah! never— never. 

—Byron 



171 



WL. 



♦ ^ 






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X 










IXJ 



'sesfT. 



^::^ 



Telepathy 



A 




ND how could you dream of meeting 
Nay, how can you ask me, sweet? 
All day my pulse had been beating 
The tune of your coming feet. 



And as nearer and ever nearer 

I felt the throb of your tread, 
To be in the world grew dearer, 

And my blood ran rosier red. 

Love called, and I could not Hnger, 
But sought the forbidden tryst. 

As music follows the finger 
Of the dreaming lutanist. 

And though you had said it and said it, 
'We must not be happy to-day,' 

Was I not wiser to credit 

The fire in my feet than your Nay? 

— Lowell 






*W0 young fair lovers, 

Where the warm June wind, 
Fresh from the sunny fields, 
Plays fondly round them, 
Stand, tranced in joy, 
With sweet, join'd voices, 
And with eyes brimming; 
"Ah," they cry, "Destiny, 
Prolong the present! 
Time, stand still here!" 



F every rose with gold were tied. 
Did gems for dewdrops fall, 
One faded leaf where Love had sighed 
Were sweetly worth them alL 

— Moore 






Good Night 



G 






OOD night! Goodnight! Ah, good the 
night 
That wraps thee in its silver light. 
Good night! No night is good for me 
That docs not hold a thought of thee. 
Good night. 

Good night! Be every night as sweet 
As that which made our love complete, 
Till that last night when death shall be 
One brief "Good night!" for thee and me. 
Good night! 

Love In Idleness 



I 



ONLY see — that thou art near, 
I only feel — I have thee, dear! 
I only hear thy throbbing heart. 
And know that we can never part. 

— Massey 



KXX 

m 







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X 








The Love-Letter 



w 




x'xx 

KXX 

" ' V 



ARMED by her hand and shadowed 
by her hair 
As close she leaned and poured 
her heart through thee, 
Whereof the articuhite throbs accompany 
The smooth black stream that makes thy 

whiteness fair, — 
Sweet fluttering sheet, even of her breath 
aware, — 
Oh, let thy silent song disclose to me 
That soul wherewith her hp and eyes agree 
Like married music in Love's answering air. 

Fain had I watched her when, at some fond 
thought 
Her bosom to the writing closeher press'd. 
And her breast's secrets peered into her ^l^^s 
breast; " ' 

When, through eyes raised an instant, her soul 

sought 
My soul, and from the sudden conlhience 
caught 
The words that made her love the lovehest. 

— Rossetti 

175 








6666 




\ 




% 



Song from 
"A Blot on the ^Scutcheon ^ 

THERE'S a woman like a dewdrop, she's 
so purer than the purest; 
And her noble heart's the noblest, yes, 
and her sure faith's the surest. 
And her eyes are dark and humid, hke the 

depth on dcptli of histre 
Hid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier 

than the wild-grape chister. 
Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's 

rose-misted marble: 
Then her voice's music . . . call it the well's 

bubbhng, the bird's warble! 
And this woman says, "My days were sunless 

and my nights were moonless, 
Parched the pleasant April herbage, and the 

lark's heart's outbreak tuneless. 
If you loved me not!" And I who ( — ah, for 

words of llame!) adore her! 
Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate pal- 
pably before her — 
176 











I may enter at her portal soon, as now her 

lattice takes me, 
And by noontide as by midnight make her 

mine, as hers she makes me! 

— Browning 

My Lifes Delight 

COME, O come, my Hfe's dehght! 
Let me not in kmguor pine! 
Love loves no dehiy; thy sight 
The more enjoyed, the more divine! 
O come, and take from me 
The pain of being deprived of thee! 

Thou all sweetness dost enclose, 

Like a Httle world of bliss; 
Beauty guards thy looks, the rose 

In them pure and eternal is: 
Come, then, and make thy flight 
As swift to me as heavenly light! 

— Campion 









^e^ssai 







^ 



Hozt^ Roses Came Red 

OSES at first were white, 
Till they could not agree, 
Whether my Sappho's breast 
Or they more white should be. 
But, being vanquish'd quite, 

A bkish their cheeks bespread; 
Since which, believe the rest. 
The roses first came red. 

— Herrick 





The Silent Lover 



The shallows murmur, but the deeps are ^^^/^/ 

dumb; |\/^ /^X^ 
So, when affections yield discourse, it seems 

The bottom is but shallow whence they come. ^\ 

They that are rich in words, in words discover /, y 

That they are poor in that which makes a lover. 'v^Kjfc^v/ 

-Raleigh * •^^*^^>S 



X 



^ 







^W^"^^ 







The Rose^s Message 



CAN you read in the heart of a rose, love, 
A message of love strong and true? 
Can you hear in the scent that it gives, 
love, 
A whisper of longing for you? 
Can you feci in the petals that fall, love, 

That a true heart is pining away? 
Can you know in the thorns of the stem, love, 

The pain that that heart feels each day? 
Will you read the dear message I send, love, 

In the roses I lay at your feet? 
Oh, believe that the rose heart is mine, love; 
Do not spurn it or crush it, my sweet! 

—Abbott 




The Pain of Love 

MIGHTY pain to love it is. 

And 't is a pain that pain to miss, 
But of all pains, the greatest pain 
It is to love, but love in vain! 

179 — Cowley 



A 








XX 



r?^ 




xm 



Since First I Saw Your Face 

SINCE first I saw your face I resolved 
To honor and renown you; 
If now I be disdained 
I wish my heart had never known you. 
What! I that loved, and you that hked, 

Shall we begin to wrangle? 
No, no, no, my heart is fast 
And cannot disentangle. 

The sun whose beams most glorious are, 

Rejecteth no beholder. 
And your sweet beauty past compare. 

Made my poor eyes the bolder. 
Where beauty moves, and wit delights 

And signs of kindness bind me. 
There, oh ! there, where'er I go 

I leave my heart behind me. 

If I admire or praise you too much, 
That fault you may forgive me. 

Or if my hands had strayed but a touch, 
Then justly might you leave me. 
1 80 



'« 




H 




F love is blind, how can it be 

That these blind eyes of mine should see, 
As I was walking down the way, 
The flutter of a garment gray 
Beneath the windy willow-tree? 

And as I walked more rapidly, 
How could I know she did not flee, 
But made an innocent delay, 
If love is bhnd? 

I saw her soft hair blowing free, 
I saw her flushing tenderly, 

And in her eyes there shone a ray 
Caught from the East at dawn of day; 
How could I tell it was for me, 
If love is blind? 

i8i 








iKTi 






FEAR thy kisses, gentle maiden, 

Thou needest not fear mine; 
My spirit is too deeply laden 
Ever to burden thine. 
I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion. 

Thou needest not fear mine; 

Innocent is the heart's devotion 

With which I worship thine. 

— Shelley 



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6% .><X>^ 

KXX 



Answer to a Child s Question 

D 



O you ask what the birds say? The 
sparrow, the dove. 
The Hnnet, and thrush say, "I love, 

and I love!" \^ 

In Winter they're silent, the wind so strong; '"* \ 
What it says I don't know, but it sings a loud '^ ' f 
song. 



<xx 
<xx 

vA/N'^ TI T J T T 

Xsj/ \ 1 love my Love, and my Love loves me. 



But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny 

warm w^eather. 
And singing and loving, all come back together. 
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, 
The green fields below him, the blue sky above, 
That he sings and he sings, and forever sings he, 



/v 










M 




XI 




A Heart for Every One 

AH, there's a heart for every one, 
/ \ If every one could find it; 

Then up and seek, ere youth is gone, 

Whate'er the toil, ne'er mind it; 
For if you chance to meet at last 

With that one heart, intended 
To be a blessing unsurpassed, 

Till life itself is ended. 
How would you prize the labour done, 

How grieve if you resigned it; 
For there's a heart for every one. 

If every one could find it! 

Two hearts are made, the angels say, 

To suit each other dearly; 
But each one takes a different way, — 

A way not found so clearly! 
Yet though we seek, and seek for years. 

The pains are worth the taking. 
For what the life of home endears 

Like hearts of angel's making? 

184 



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rsXX 
KXX 






Then haste, and guard the treasure now, 
When fondly you've enshrined it. 

For there's a heart for every one, 
If every one could find it. 

— Swain 

Her Face and Brow 

AH, help me! but her face and brow 
/ \ Are loveher than the hlies are 
^ ^ Beneath the light of moon and star 
That smile as they are smihng now — 
White Hhes in a paUid swoon 
Of sweetest white beneath the moon — 
White hhes, in a flood of bright 
Pure lucidness of hquid fight 
Cascading down some plenihme, 
When all the azure overhead 
Blooms fike a dazzfing daisy-bed. 
So fiiminous her face and brow, 
The fiister of their glory, shed 
In memory, even, bfinds me now. 



r 






In the Spring 

IN the Spring a fuller erimson comes upon 
the robin's breast; 
In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets 
himself another crest; 
In the Spring a liveher iris changes on the bur- 

nish'd dove; 
In the Spring a young man's fancy Hghtly turns 
to thoughts of love. — Tennyson 

If You Love Me Still 

SWEET, if you like and love me still, 
And yield me love for my goodwill, 
And do not from your promise start 
When your fair hand gave me your heart; 
If dear to you I be 
As you are dear to me. 
Then yours I am and will be ever: 
Nor time nor place my love shall sever, 
But faithful still will I persevere, 
Like constant marble stone, 




Loving but you alone 



W^ 






The Religion of Love 

O thou but love me, dear, with thy 
whole heart 
What care I for the rest, for good or ill? 
What for the peace of soul good deeds 

impart? 
What for the tears unholy dreams distill? 
These cannot make my joy, nor shall 

they kill 
Thou only perfect peace and virtue art 
And hohness for me and strength and will- 
So thou but love me with a perfect heart. 
I ask thee now no longer to be wise; 
No longer to be good, but loving me, 
I ask thee nothing now only this. 
Henceforth my Bible, dear, shall be 

thine eyes. 
My beads thy hps, my prayers thy 

constancy. 
My Heaven thine arms, eternity thy kiss. 








Xite^ 



Song 

O moonlight deep and tender, 
A year and more agone, 
Your mist of golden splendor 
Round my betrothal shone! 

O elm-Ieaves dark and dewy, 

The very same ye seem, 
The low wind trembles through ye, 

Ye murmur in my dream! 

O river, dim with distance. 

Flow thus forever by, 
A part of my existence 

Within your heart doth he! 

O stars, ye saw our meeting, 

Two beings and one soul. 
Two hearts so madly beating 

To mingle and be whole! 

O happy night, dehver 

Her kisses back to me. 
Or keep them all, and give her 

A bhssful dream of me! 

1 88 —Lowell 






A Love Lesson 

A SWEET "No, no," with a sweet smile 
beneath, 
Becomes an honest girl; I'd have you 
learn it: — 
As for plain "Yes," it may be said i' faith 
Too plainly and too oft : — pray well discern it — 
Not that I'd have my pleasure incomplete 
Or lose the kiss for which my lips beset you ; 
But that in suffering me to take it, sweet, 
I'd have you say, "No, no, I will not let you." 

— Hunt 



The Exchange 



E pledged our hearts, my love and I, 
I in my arms the maiden cLasping; 
could not tell the reason why, 
But, oh! I trembled like an aspen. 

Her father's love she bade me gain; 

I went, and shook hke any reed! 
I strove to act the man — in vain! 

We had exchanged our hearts indeed. 

189 — Coleridge 









^ 



H 



OW delicious is the winning 
Of a kiss at Love's beginning 
When two mutual hearts are sighing 
For the knot there's no untying! 



^M 






m 



Yet remember, 'midst your wooing, 
Love has bhss, but Love has ruing; 
Other smiles may make you fickle, 
Tears for other charms may trickle. 

Love he comes, and Love he tarries. 
Just as fate or fancy carries; 
Longest stays when sorest chidden ; 
Laughs and flies, when pressed and bidden. 

Bind the sea to shimber stilly. 
Bind its odor to the lily, 
Bmd the aspen ne'er to quiver, 
Then bind Love to List forever! 

Love's a fn-e that needs renewal 
Of fresh beauty for its fuel; 
Love's wing moults when caged and captured, 
Only free he soars enraptured. 

190 




m 




p^^ 

"^'4 



> 



Can you keep the bee from ranging, 
Or the ring-dove's neck from changing? 
No! nor fettered Love from dying 
In the knot there's no untying. 

— Campbell 



M 



A Ditty 

Y true-love hath my heart, and I have ^ 
his, 
By just exchange one for another 
given : 
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, 
W/KVrvyf There never was a better bargain driven: 

PVV 1^ My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. 

V ^ His heart in me keeps him and me in one, 

V ^ ^"^ heart in him his thoughts and senses 
r^^jrS guides: i>^ 

/'JJ^ He loves my heart, for once it was his own, K^ 

I cherish his because in me it bides: 
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. 

■ — Sidnev 








X 









^ 



555^ 




N 



She Laughed 



Wf4 



s 



HE laughed — she chmbed the giddy 
height. 
I held that chmber small; 
I even held her rather tight, 

For fear that she should falL 
A dozen girls were chirping round, 
Like five and twenty Hnnets, — 
I must have held her, I'll be bound. 
Some live and twenty minutes. 

— Locker 



\ 



y 



An Explanatior 



HER lips were so near 
That — what else could I do? 
\ ou'Il be angry, I fear, 
But her lips were so near — 
Well, I can't make it clear, 

Or explain it to you. 
But — her lips were so near 
That — what else could I do? 

192 —Learned 






0, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast | 



OWERT thou in the cauld blast, 
On yonder lea, on yonder lea, 
My plaidie to the angry airt, 
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee; 
Or did Misfortune's bitter storms 

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw. 
Thy bield should be my bosom. 
To share it a', to share it a'. 

Or were I in the wildest waste, 

Sae black and bare, sac black and bare, 
The desert were a Paradise, 

If thou wert there, if thou wert there; 
Or were I monarch o' the globe, 

\Vi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, 
The brightest jewel in my Crown 

Wad be my Queen, wad be my Queen. 

— Burns 






The Land o the Leal 



do 




I'M wearing awa', Jean, 
Like snaw when it's thaw, Jean; 
I'm wearing awa' 

To the Land o' the Leal. 
There's nae sorrow there, Jean, 
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean, 
The day is aye fair 

In the Land o' the Leah 
Ye were aye leal and true, Jean; 
Your task's ended noo, Jean, 
And I'll welcome you 

To the Land o' the Leak 
Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, 
She was baith guid and fair, Jean; 
O, we grudged her right sair 

To the Land o' the Leal! 
Then dry that tearfu' e'e, Jean 
My soul langs to be free, Jean, 
And angels wait on me 

To the Land o' the Leal! 





66c 







Ik 




Now fare ye weel, my ain Jean, 
This warld's care is vain, Jean; 
We'll meet and aye be fain 
In the Land o' the Leal. 



Song 



I 



It is the httle rift within the kite 
That by and by will make the music mute, 
And ever widening slowly silence all. 

The httle rift within the lover's hite, 
Or httle pitted speck in garnered fruit. 
That rotting inward slowly moulders all. 

It is not worth the keeping: let it go: 
But shall it? answer, darhng; answer, no. 
And trust me not at all, or ah in all. 

— Tennyson 
195 




N Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours, 
Faith and un faith can ne'er be equal 

powers ; 
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all. 





I>#1 



t 

% 



Good-Night 

OOD-NIGHT?" No, love! the night 
is ill 
Which severs those it should unite; 
Let us remain together still, — 
Then it will be good night. 



G 



How were the night without thee good? 

Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? 
Be it not said, thought, understood,— 

Then it will be good night. 

The hearts that on each other beat 
From evening close to morning light 

Have nights as good as they are sweet. 
But never say "Good-night." ^7 jj 

Upon a Virgin Kissing a Rose 






'WAS but a single rose, 

Till you on it did breathe; 
But since, methinks, it shows 
Not so much rose as wreath. 

196 — Herrick 






When All the World is Young 



w 



HEN all the world is young, lad, and 

all the trees are green, 
And every goose a swan, lad, and 
ev'ry lass a queen; 
Then hey for boot and horse, lad, and ride the 

world away, 
Young blood must have its course, hid, and 
ev'ry dog his day. 

When all the world is old, lad, and all the trees 

are brown, 
And all the sport is stale, lad, and all the 

wheels rundown; IN/'' M^- 

Creep home, and take thy place there, thy fk^^^ ^ 

early friends among, Lr^ 

God grant you find one face there, you loved 

when all was young. l^^jfSJ^/^^^ 

^Kingsley A Tr* 









X 



\ 



X 



s 






The Young Mans Song 

I whispered 'I am too young,' 
And then, 'I am old enough,' 
Wherefore I threw a penny 
To find out if I might love; 
'Go and love, go and love, young man, 
If the lady be young and fair,' 
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, 
I am looped in the loops of her hair. 

Oh, love is the crooked thing. 

There is nobody wise enough 

To find out all that is in it. 

For he would be thinking of love 

Till the stars had run away. 

And the shadows eaten the moon; 

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, 

One cannot begin it too soon. 

— Yeats 



hi 



% 










Love Notes 

HE nightingale has a lyre of gold, 

The lark's is a clarion call, 
And the blackbird plays but a box-wood 
11 lite. 
But I love him best of all. 



T 



For his song is all the joy of life, 

And we in the mad Spring weather, 
We two have listened while he sang 



Our hearts and lips together. 



-Henley 



o^xxx 



Summer and Winter 

OT Summer now is flushing 
Thy cheek, dear Lady mine, 
And icy Winter is freezing 
That little heart of thine. 

All this will change, believe mc, 

O dearest Lady mine! 
The Winter thy checks invading. 

The Summer that heart of thine. 













E 



r 




Love Thee? 

OVE thee?— so well, so tenderly 

Thou'rt loved, adored by me. 
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty, 
Were worthless without thee. 
Though brimm'd with blessings, pure and rare. 

Life's cup before me lay, 
Unless thy love were mingled there, 
I'd spurn the draught away. 

Love thee? — so well, so tenderly 

Thou 'rt loved, adored by me. 
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty. 

Were worthless without thee. 
Without thy smile, the monarch's lot 

To me were dark and lone, 
While, with it, even the humblest cot 

Were brighter than his throne. 



200 



ml 



Tsr 



/X/ 



y^ 



^'^tnS 




/" 



^ 



Those worlds, for which the conqueror sighs, 

For me would have no charms: 
My only world thy gentle eyes — 

My throne thy circling arms! 
Oh, yes, so well, so tenderly 

Thou 'rt loved, adored by me, 
Whole realms of light and liberty 

Were worthless without thee. 



— Moore 



To 




I LOVE you^not because your lips 
Are sweetly curved hke Cupid's bow; 
But for the words they softly frame. 
Tender and loving, sweet and low. 

I love you — not because your hand 
Is small and dimpled, soft and warm; 

But for its pressure, mute caress, 

I'd gladly brave Kfe's hardest storm. 

I love you — not because your eyes 
Are sparkhng, bright, or raven hue; 

But for your pure, unspotted soul 

Which looks those virgin windows through. 

— Baker 




201 






The Lover s Hour 

THE moon shines white 
Within the wood, 
Each leafy height 
A singing mood, 
Each branch above, 
O, my fair love! 

The pond begets 
Mirrored, sleeping 
Black silhouettes 
Of the willow weeping, 
Where the winds flower; 
Dream, 'tis the hour. 

A vast and tender 

Peacefulness 

The skies surrender 

In glimmering dress, 

A starry shrine — 

'Tis the hour divine. 

— Verlaine. 

202 










Love Wakes and 







E'E wakes and weeps 
While Beauty sleeps; 
Oh ! for music's softest numbers 
To prompt a theme 
For Beauty's dream, 
Soft as the pillow of her slumbers! 

Through groves of palm 

Sigh gales of balm; 
Fireflies on the air are wheeling; 

While through the gloom 

Comes soft perfume, 
The distant beds of flowers revealing. 

Oh! wake and five! 

No dreams can give 
A shadowed bfiss the reaf exceffing; 

No fonger sfeep — 

From fattice peep. 
And fist the tafe that fove is teffing 



Winged Songs 







^^ 



Y songs to thee would be bringing, 
Tender thought and sweetest word, 
Could my songs their way be winging 
As doth a bird. 

Unto thy hearth unspringing, 
They would fly without control, 
Could my songs their way be winging 
As doth the souL 

To thy heart a message singing. 
All love and faith, dear, to prove, 
Could my songs their way be winging 

As doth my love! — Hugo 

Ah. Love! 

AH, Love could You and I with Fate 
/ \ Conspire, 

To grasp this Sorry Scheme of 
Things Entire, 

Would We not shatter it to Bits — and then 
Remould it Nearer to the Heart's Desire. 
, 204 — Fitzgerald 



^ 



>r^« 




:-:^^M> 



/ s. 




N 





41 



Nature Hath Crowned Thee 



NATURE hath crowned thee with her 
fairest crown: 
Men call thee beautiful in form and face, 
Praise thy dark eyes, thy tresses golden-brown. 
Thy stately height, thy figure's buoyant grace. 
I see these charms, but with another sight, 

As symbols of a charm still unexpressed; — 
See in their loveliness thy spirit's hght 

Burning through clouds, — half-hidden, half- 
confessed. 
Should I have loved thee hadst thou been less 
fair? 
Vain question! for thy beauty is thine own — 
Thine own — thy self: 'tis because thou art 
there. 
That all thy grace to fuller grace has grown. 
Thy spirit made thee beautiful, and still 
It moulds thy form and features to its wilL 

— Holmes 









King and Slave 



F in my soul, dear, 

An omen should dwell. 
Bidding nie pause, ere 
I love thee too well; 
If the whole circle 

Of noble and wise, 
With stern forebodings, 
Between us should rise; — 



I will tell them, dear, 

That Love reigns — a King, 
Where storms cannot reach him, 

And words cannot sting; 
He counts it dishonour 

His faith to recall; 
He trusts;— and forever 

He gives — and gives all! 

I will tell thee, dear, 
That Love is — a Slave, 

206 



y 



^ 



X. 







m 




Who dreads thought of freedom, 

As life dreads the grave; 
And if doubt or peril 

Of change there may be, 
Such fear would but drive him 

Still nearer to thee! 

She Is Not Fair 

HE is not fair to outward view 
As many maidens be; 
er loveliness I never knew 
Until she smiled on me. 
Oh then I saw her eye was bright, 
A well of love, a spring of hght. 

But now her looks are coy and cold. 
To mine they ne'er reply. 

And yet I cease not to behold 
The love-Iight in her eye: 

Her very frowns are fairer far 

Than smiles of other maidens are. 



■Procter 



y 



W^ 



Coleridge ^y^i\^ ^ 








pm^ 
x^^ 






O 




From Hiawatha 

NAWAY! A^Yake, beloved! 

Thou the wild-flower of the forest! 
Thou the wild-bird of the prairie! 
Thou w4th eyes so soft and fawn-like! 

If thou only lookest at me, 

I am happy, I am happy. 

As the lilies of the prairie, 

When they feel the dew upon them ! 

Does not all the blood within me 
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, 
As the springs to meet the sunshine. 
In the Moon when nights are brightest! 

When thou smilest, my beloved, 
Then my troubled heart is brightened, 
As in sunshine gleam the ripples 
That the cold wind makes in rivers. 

I myself, myself! behold me! 

Blood of my beating heart, behold me! 

O awake, awake, beloved! 

Onaway! awake, beloved! _i^„^^j,n^,^ 



\ 



V 



V 



p 



'rT^j 



i 



Because You Love Me 

BECAUSE you love me, I have found 
New joys that were not mine before; 
New stars that lightened up my sky 
With glories growing more and more. 
Because you love me I can rise 

To the heights of fame and realms of power; 
Because you love me I may learn 
The highest use of every hour. 

Because you love mc I can choose 

To look through your dear eyes and see 
Beyond the beauty of the Now 

Far onward to Eternity. 
Because you love me I can wait 

With perfect patience well possessed; 
Because you love me, all my life 
Is circled with unquestioned rest; 
Yes, even Life and even Death 

Is all unquestioned and all blest. 



209 







/ Waited Till the Twilight 





I WAITED till the twilight, 
And yet he did not come; 
I strayed along the brookside, 
And slowly wandered home; 
When who should come behind me, 

But him I would have chid; 
He said he came to find me — 
Do you really think he did? 

He said since last we parted. 

He'd thought of naught so sweet, 
As of this very moment, — 

The moment we should meet. 
He showed me where, half-shaded, 

A cottage home lay hid, 
He said for me he'd made it — 

Do you really think he did? 

He said when first he saw me, 
Life seemed at once divine. 



V 




^r-% w:^Sf^M 




y j^A 




Each night he dreamed of angels, 

And every face was mine; 
Sometimes a voice in sleeping 

Would all his hopes forbid; 
And then he'd waken weeping — 

Do you really think he did? 

Twin Stars 

TWIN stars, aloft in ether clear. 
Around each other roll away. 
Within one common atmosphere 
Of their own mutual hght and day. 

And myriad happy eyes are bent 
Upon their changeless love alway; 

As strengthened by their one intent. 
They pour the flood of hfe and day. 

So we, through this world's waning night, 
ShaK, hand in hand, pursue our way; 

Shed round us order, love, and light. 
And shine unto the perfect day. 





f^^^^A^^ ^ 



/ 






When Shall We Meet Again .' 

WHEN shall we meet again 
Dearest and best? 
Thou going Eastward, and 
I going West. 
Thou in whose love my heart 

Seeks for its rest; 
When shall we meet again, 
Dearest and best? 



Not in love's common way 

Was my love spoken ^ — 
No sweet confession made 

Sealed by sweet token: 
Calmly I uttered it 

Though half heart-broken; 
Not in love's common way 

Was my love spoken. 




212 



rj^^ 




/. 





What will its issue be? 

Cloud-shadows fall — 
All is uncertainty — 

Yet over all 
One guideth steadily 

Great things and small 
What will the issue be? 

God guideth all. 



■Clarke 



W/i 



X 



Three Words 




w 



'HEN, in that time and place, 
I spoke to her. 
Requiring, tho' I knew it was mine 
own. 
Yet for the pleasure that I took to hear. 
Requiring at her hand the greatest gift, 
A woman's heart, the heart of her I loved; 
And in that time and place she answered me; 
And in the compass of three little words, 
More musical than ever came in one, 
The silver fragments of a broken voice, 
Made me most happy, faltering," I am thine." 

213 — Tennyson 






Son^ 



B 



k : 






ELI EVE me, if all those endearing i/\ , 

young charms, y<v 

Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
Were to change by to-morrow, and 

fleet in my arms. 
Like fairy-gifts fading away. 
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment 
thou art. 
Let thy loveliness fade as it will. 
And around the dear ruin each wish of my 
heart 
Would entwine itself verdantly still. ^ ,. . . ..^ 

—Moore ^IIV-'^X 





Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, 
To still a heart in absence wrung; 
I tell each bead unto the end, and there 
A cross is hung. 

Oh, 77iemories that bless and burn — 
Oh, barren gain and bitter loss — 
/ kiss each bead, and strive at last to learn 
To kiss the cross. 
Sweetheart, 

To kiss the cross. 




-Rogers 



215 




INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



A mighty pain to love it is 

A straying zepiiyr and a waveless sea 

A sweet "No, no," with a sweet smile beneath 

Ah, help me! but her face and brow . 

Ah, Love, could You and I with Fate conspire 

Ah, Love, dear Love. In vain I scoff. In vain 

Ah, sweet! Thou little knowest how 

Ah, there's a heart for every one 

All June I bound the rose in sheaves 

Ail thoughts, ail passions, all delights 

Alone in the dark post-wagon 

Although I enter not 

An thou were my ain thing 

And how could you dream of meeting? 

And on her lover's arm she leant 

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea 

Ask me no more where Jove bestows 

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping 



Because you love me, I have found 

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms 

Bid me to live, and I will live 

Birds in the high Hall-garden 

Bright sapphires are those eyes of thine 

By love must love be mastered, fire by fire 

Can you read in the heart of a rose, love 
Catch her and hold her if you can 
Come live with me and be my Love 
Come, oh come, my life's delight 

Darby, dear, we are old and gray 

Dear Elpis, all my thoughts and all my wishes are for thee 

Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again 

Drink to me only with thine eyes 

217 



179 

37 
189 
185 
204 

63 

151 

184 

103 

106 

89 

88 

36 

172 

38 

95 
26 
40 

209 

214 
30 
45 
51 
99 

179 

121 

76 

177 

60 
93 
79 
49 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove 
Do you remember when you heard 
Dost thou remember that place so lonely 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may 

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand . 

Go, lovely rose ..... 

Good night! Good night! Ah, good the night 

"Good-night?" No, love! the night is ill 

Go not, happy day .... 

Hark! Hark! The lark at Heaven's gate sings 

Helen, thy beauty is to me 

Her hps were so near 

He that loves a rosy cheek 

He who looks and falls in love 

Hot Summer now is flushing 

How dehcious is the winning 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways 

How many times do I love thee, dear 

I am thy harp, that all unknown thou sweepest 

I'm wearing awa', Jean 

I arise from dreams of thee 

I dare not ask a kiss .... 

I did not choose thee, dearest. It was Love 

I do not love thee! — no! I do not love thee! 

I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden 

I little know or care .... 

I looked into the midnight deep 

I love, too, to be loved; all loving praise 

I love you — not because your Hps 

"I may not love thee." "May not!" but I do 

I ne'er could any lustre see 

I only see — that thou art near 

218 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



I prithee send me back my heart 

I waited till the twihght 

I wish I could remember that first day 

I whispered 'I am too young' 

I wonder in what Isle of Bhss . 

If, after all, you still doubt and fear mc 

If every rose with gold were tied 

If in my soul, dear 

If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange 

If I were king — Ah, love, if I were king! 

If I were what the words are 

If love is bhnd, how can it be . 

If the apple grows on the apple tree 

Indeed, this very love which is my boast 

In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours 

In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast 

In the sweet marvelous month of May 

In the year that's come and gone. Love, his flying feather 

It was a lover and his lass 

Just drifting on together 

Lay thy soft cheek against my cheek . 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Let other bards of angels sing . 

Life hath its memories lovely 

Like pearls that form a rosary . 

Love comes back to his vacant dwelling 

Love is a sickness full of woes . 

Love is by fancy led about 

Love is life's end; an end but never ending 

Love is not a feeling to pass away 

Love is not made of kisses, or of sighs . 

Love me a little, love me as thou wilt . 

Love me little, love me long! 



219 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



Love me, sweet, with all thou art 

Love me or not ..... 

Love not me for comely grace . 

Love shall be purified by Pain . 

Love strikes one hour — love! those never loved 

Love thee, dearest? love thee? . 

Love thee? — so well, so tenderly 

Love took me softly by the hand 

Love wakes and weeps .... 

Love, when 'tis true, needs not the aid 

Madonna, wherefore hast thou sent to me 

Maid of Athens, ere we part 

Maiden with the Hps hke rosebuds 

Man's love is of man's hfe a thing apart 

Maxwelton braes are bonnie 

My bride, my wife, my hfe. Oh, we will walk this 

My heart is like a singing bird . 

My Lais with her pretty whiles . 

My mistress bent that brow of hers 

My songs to thee would be bringing 

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his . 

Nature hath crowned thee with her fairest crown 

Nay, do not pity me, that not a star . 

Not from the whole wide world I chose thee . 

O her beautiful eyes! they are as blue as the dew 

O mellow moonlight warm 

O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 

O moonlight deep and tender 

O never say that I was false of heart . 

O swallow, swallow, flying, flying South 

O wert thou in the cauld blast . 

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw 

Often I have heard it said 



orld 



85 
1 1 1 

160 
166 
137 
169 
200 

28 
203 

81 

153 
126 
119 
149 

58 

150 
100 
1 10 

37 
204 
191 

205 
145 
116 

158 

54 

71 
188 

137 
68 

193 

42 

162 



220 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



Onaway! Awake, beloved! 

Oh, Beauty, passing Beauty, sweetest Sweet! 

Oh, I love my love in the lovely Summer time 

Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire 

Oh, my luve's hke a red, red rose 

Oh, no! — not e'en when first we loved 

One word is too often profaned . 

Only a bee made prisoner 

Pack clouds away, and welcome day . 
Passions are hkened best to floods and streams 
Philhs IS my only joy 

Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls 

Rose kissed me to-day .... 
Roses at first were white 

Shall I, wasting in despair 

She dwelt among the untrodden ways . 

She is a winsome wee thing 

She is not fair to outward view 

She laughed — she chmbed the giddy height . 

She stood breast-high amid the corn 

She walks in beauty, like the night 

She was a phantom of delight 

Since first I saw your face I resolved . 

Somewhere or other there must surely be 

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours 

So thou but love me, dear, with thy whole heart 

Star that bringest home the bee 

Stars of the Summer night 

Sweet as a flower thou seemest 

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes 

Sweet, if you like and love me still 



200 

i6i 

140 
171 
27 
102 
108 
154 

83 

178 
94 

115 

155 
178 

75 
107 

98 
207 
192 

41 
142 

64 
180 

133 
166 

187 
117 

36 

69 

169 

186 



221 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind 

That thou hast her, it is not all my grief 

That which her slender waist confined 

The fountains mmgle with the river . 

The hours I spent with thee, dear heart 

The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest . 

The moon shines white within the wood 

The might of one fair face subhmes my love 

The night has a thousand eyes 

The nightingale has a lyre of gold 

The stars far off in Heaven 

The Sun, the Rose, the Lily, the Dove 

The time I've lost in wooing 

The touches of her hands are hke the fall 

The violet loves a sunny bank 

There is a change, — and I am poor 

There is a Lady sweet and kind 

There is ever a song somewhere, my dear 

There is no gladness in the glass 

There is no life on earth but being in love 

There's a woman like a dewdrop, she's so purer tha 

Thou lovest me not, thou lovcst me not 

Though cruel fate should bid us part 

'Tis sweeter than all else below 

To love one maiden only, cleave to her 

To keep one sacred flame 

To see her is to love her 

True Love is but a humble, low-born thing 

Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke 

Trust no prayer nor promise 

'Twas April; 'twas Sunday; the day was fair 

'Twas but a single rose 

Twin stars, aloft in ether clear 

Two lovers by a moss-grown spring 

Two young fair lovers .... 



n the purest 



222 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



Warmed by her hand and shadowed by her hair 

We pledged our hearts, my love and I 

Were I as base as is the lowly plain . 

When a pair of red hps are upturned to your own 

When all the world is young, lad, and all the trees are green 

When I think on the happy days 

When, in that time and place . 

When love, with unconfmc'd wings 

When other friends are round thee 

When shall we meet again 

When Spring comes laughing, by vale and hill 

When stars are in the quiet skies 

When thou art near me 

When words we want. Love teacheth to indite 

Who is Sylvia? What is she? . 

Why ask of others what they cannot say 

Why should I blush to own I love? 

Why so pale and wan, fond lover? 

Wilt thou be my dearie? 

Wilt thou take me for thy slave 

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon 
You touched my heart; it gave a thrill 



175 
189 

91 

32 
197 
149 
213 

90 
122 
212 

50 
152 

74 
136 

97 

135 

138 
105 

33 

170 

70 
162 



223 



C 59 



Jl^L 29;i912 















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